


God is an Idiot

by ProfBreastMilkTaster



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amorality, Anti-Hero, Blasphemy, Cosmic Horror Story, Dark Fantasy, Drama, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Nihilism, POV Third Person Limited, Surreal, Thriller, Tragedy, Work In Progress, deuteragonist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-09-15 20:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfBreastMilkTaster/pseuds/ProfBreastMilkTaster
Summary: We readers know: Momonga is in truth a clueless fool stuck in nostalgia, that only mimes an all-knowing genius, but what if it was just the opposite way? Would you still root for a real, manipulative bastard, that lost his heart, even before coming to the New World? AU Darkfic parody of Overlord, where the main man is indeed the worst monster in Nazarick.





	1. The Player

Hi, I don't own the Overlord franchise and I do not intent any profit with this text. Cover Art by Pere Borrell del Caso (1835 – 1910).

God is an Idiot

The Great Tomb of Nazarick, 10th floor – year 2138

A tall shape sacked down on the high rising throne of black stone. While it wore a dark hood and a wide baroque robe that exposed its chest, only a flesh-stripped grinning skull sat on its shoulders and the massive rib cage held no intestines, just a blood red glowing orb, where a man would hope to find his stomach. It projected a forsaken atmosphere in the large, barely lit room, as it supported its massive frame with clawed hands on its knees.

Sparsely distributed braziers hinted at mighty pillars, that shouldered the ceiling dozens of meters above it. Many banners, some elaborate, some plain, hung from it, but the throne occupier was alone apart from the many corpses of diverse shape, that littered the ground.

_27 players and at least twice that amount of summons and companions. I am beat._

Were its thoughts, as it felled the mental exhaustion finally catch up with it.

While all of the dead possessed the basic humanoid shape, many of them bore features unheard of on normal humans like tusks, long ears or an extremely stocky built and each one wore arms and armor of excellent and often fantastic designs. Clearly this was not Earth but another world, far removed from its depressing state.

They all, the dead and the un-living, were Players of Yggdrasil, the most successful dive-in massive multiplayer role playing game of man's history inspired by the first members of the RPG genre from the late 20th century. Using modern neural interface technology it allowed humans to occupy a virtual avatar and experience artificial realities. When it was released in 2126 the masses had stormed the giant server like it was the Promised Land and who could have blamed them? Earth was no longer a planet capable of naturally supporting life. The selfish greed and resource consumption of the previous generations had irreparably destroyed the planets ecosystem and barren wastes and dead seas had replaced even the last recluses of natural life. Mankind only endured thanks to technology on the poisonous hell hole. The wish to escape was only natural.

At its peak close to one billion players enjoyed Yggdrasil's single large server divided into 9 sub-worlds to be used as a giant sandbox. The game had been designed with the clear intent of enforcing exploration and role-playing. It only offered minimum support and information on its own, so players had to discover most features and secrets by themselves.

Or they asked other players.

Of course, this led to a competitive socialization – hence the forming of guilds and the consequences of their rivalries. Competitive game-play was almost impossible without the backing of such a group.

Where would the average paladin Justin McGoodCheek start to look for his holy grail in a world of almost half the surface area of planet Earth? It was like asking "Where will I find 1 kilogramm of uranium till 9 pm ?" in the real world, when Sandbazone was offline again. Asking several Hundreds of people of diverse ability and expertise for help drastically raised a player's odds of finishing her quests and maybe reach one day level 100 with the one character, the game granted each user.

The Player on the throne had not been blessed with as many friends.

_41, unbeaten and glorious. We were like a feature of the game: Die in Nazarick! - Top the High score !_

This dungeon, the Great Tomb of Nazarick, had been cleared only once by the small guild Ainz Ooal Gown, when it only consisted of 6 layers. Ainz Ooal Gown was an exotic guild, made up only of players of the monstrous heteromorphic races, a shunned subset of available player races hunted free of punishment by other, regular player. Role-playing and convenience motivated most players to adhere to the meme and in time some players, at least Ainz Ooal Gown's, adapted.

They started to play the villains, others wanted them to be and they reveled in it. After conquering the tomb and setting it up as their official guild base, they expanded its original six floors to ten and set up a terrible death trap with the guild members acting as the final bosses, should it ever fall under siege.

Only once did an alliance of over 1.500 players breach into the 8th layer.

Until today.

_They must be so pissed. Besides the effort of gathering almost 700 players for the last day everyone must have invested considerable time and resources for this last effort. And they were rewarded for their work. Some made it to the last floor and throne room._

The skeleton raised its head and scanned the room before making two precise swiping motions in front of it.

_11.32 pm. It is almost time and Nazarick will shine. I should revive the NPCs._

It made more swiping motions, at one point even reaching blindly behind its head like moving a large ring, while continuing a different motion with the other hand, before slowing down and only repeating a downward move for a time. Then it grabbed its head in a silent gesture of terror.

19 billion! That is almost all that's left in the treasur- Shut it. The game ends anyway.

It tapped once before staying motionless again.

_It ends and I should be happy. I won._

It swiped several more times before rising from the throne and walking into the vast room.

_I won the game, THE game, The Game of Games, Yggdrasil! I finally have a decent job constructing life domes. I should be happy and yet… I am not. – Ah, there she is._

The undead stopped in front of a black haired beauty with golden slit eyes, a woman far too perfect for the real world. A set of thick horns hugged her upper head like a low hanging massive crown and from above her hips grew a large set of raven wings. Clad in her white evening dress and cycling through a small series of suggestive poses it soon became apparent, that no real life filled her.

Her eyes were empty and without a spark, even when she started to fix the skeleton on its approach, before it finally towered almost half a meter above her.

_Right, Tabula Smaragdina tended to refer to his work as "fap material", but I never saw her in idle mode. Most of Nazarick's NPCs were set on a timed activity list while not in combat to maintain some busy atmosphere in the vast halls of the dungeon. 12 years and I never gave our employees some downtime. I am a terrible boss. At least now I should allow the lady some style._

A faint boom and rushing could be heard in the distance, before a golden, intricately designed staff resembling 8 intertwined snakes, flew into its waiting left hand with the speed of fired bullet. It was the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, the official guild weapon and badge of the guild master: it.

The staff holder started to swipe and tip again.

_Okay, let's set her behavior set from **[FLIRTY]** to  **[MATURE]**_

And then it stopped.

_Is that alright? This is Tabula Smaragdina's legacy, his personal creation, not mine. Would he mind?_

_Or even care?_

_No, he didn't or couldn't care for 5 years; I am sure he wouldn't mind me indulging on this last day._

It crossed and stretched its fingers before starting again.

_Okay, let's check the build... Well, even after 7 years of updates I'll... ehm... switch those 3 talents and adjust some skill points and voilà. He picked a really good build. Knuckles for you, my friend. Okay, next the background. Mmm... Mmm... Looks in order, if a little bit extensive. The origin is somewhat garbled, though. I'll just simplify it._

_[She is a fallen angel]._

_Oh what the heck, this is kind of my last meal:[ **She is the first fallen angel]**. There is no reason not to go overboard. Continue... Mmmh... mmh... Really, Tabula? [ **BTW, she is a total slut.]**?_

It hesitated before typing.

_**[She is in love with Momonga.]** Just a little fantasy to add some sweet to the bitterness of today. Okay, just to be sure I should check her basic profile._

Ains Ooal Gown's last player knew full well the futility of his wish to set things right in those last minutes, but indulged his need for perfection and meticulousness anyway. Many of the other 40 guild members had often made fun of the player's character trait, calling it "over-complicating", but they were no longer present to judge.

_I did not expect that!_

The undead stopped its movements and lowered its hands, while stepping back. Its skull turned to the woman and gave her a slow up and down, before it raised its right hand to its head and tapped its temple several times. After a moment of thought it continued its task.

_Okay, I always had an idea, but these last few minutes she'll be my glory chick, not your cross dressing fap material, Tabula. Excellent job done on the sculpting, though! Damn! Okay. Make a check in the **[Female]** box, then  **[Save and Close]**. I've got to hurry. The time is almost up._

It formed a fist in front of its face and a baritone hoarse voice spoke,

"Albedo, Follow!"

It hurried back to throne with the NPC silently following with unchanging expression. In front of the throne it fixed the corpses again and after a few motions of its hands, they dissolved like ash blown away by the wind.

"Albedo, use position 18 on target [Throne of Kings]."

The woman nodded once, before sitting down on the right armchair, leaning on straight arms behind her buttock and angling her body slightly to the seat occupier, which was now the Player in the dark robes. It let his right leg hang over his left, while leaning slightly to its left and lazily produced a victory sign with its left hand.

A sharp "Click" echoed for some time through the hall.

_Less than two minutes left and I'm not happy. I managed to rise out of my depressing job into managing real construction. I can change something, create! And now I can safely say I won the game. I should call myself "Best of Billion" or BoB._

_Scratch that. I've got no trophy, but I've been occupying the leader board top for 3 years straight and I hauled Ainz Ooal Gown back into the Top Ten of the Guilds on my own, after they abandoned me! But still…_

In its Golden Age Ainz Ooal Gown had been counted among the most powerful and recognized guilds in all of Yggdrasil, despite, or maybe even because, of its exclusive nature. While other guilds often had Hundreds, sometimes Thousands of members, they had rarely admitted new ones. Only those who convinced Ainz Ooal Gown members, that they truly wanted to join to work on behalf of the guild, instead for selfish reasons, got the chance to prove themselves worthy of membership.

Because of this stringent sift out they never counted more than 41 members, it, the guild master included, but everyone had been a level 100 character equipped with the finest gear, intimately familiar with the strengths, weaknesses and quirks of each fellow member. That alone constituted a power few rivals could match.

To most players just reaching the level 100 cap and holding it was an achievement on its own, because every death meant a loss of levels, they had to work for to achieve again. While this was not much of an issue on low levels, the exponential growing experience point requirements meant, it could take weeks to gain even one level, when close to the level cap. But farming for the best equipment, items of divine rank, was always risky. Only the strongest monsters had a reasonable high chance of dropping such gear to make it worth fighting them. Thus the vast majority of level 100 players did not even sport one such item. Even at the peak of Yggdrasil's popularity there were less than a half a Million players possessing such an item.

Ainz Ooal Gown's members possessed, each and every one, at least one complete set of divine gear suited to their character and many even several for different occasions and purposes. Striving for the game's greatest achievements made their use almost mandatory, but the required time and effort to get to that point made it an utopian prospect to most players.

Yet this dedication was the entry fee to Yggdrasil's true endgame, the hunt for the 200 unique and extremely powerful World Items and class and race specific rewards. Possession of even one such item was a huge source of prestige amongst the guilds. Ainz Ooal Gown possessed 11, more than any other guild and 8 more than the second largest collection any rival ever amassed, but it had only been possible by the extreme efforts of their close comradeship.

Unfortunately one by one the other members of Ainz Ooal Gown had to quit Yggdrasil, some because they founded families of their own, some because their work left them no more time or energy to play and in some cases for even sadder reasons. By 2133 Momonga had become Ainz Ooal Gown's last active player, bereft of the only people his user, Suzuki Satoru, ever considered friends and family, after he grew up as an orphan nobody.

It was a depressing time, during which Momonga resigned himself to clinging to happier times and administering the legacy of his friends. Most likely Ainz Ooal Gown's last active member would have defended and farmed gold to maintain its old glory till today, had Suzuki Satoru not received a message in the real world from one of the guilds founding members.

Touch-Me, their champion and one of Momonga's most valued friends, had passed from the same disease, that forced him to abandon the game. Touch-me had been a very straightforward member, some would have called his bluntness rude, but it was exactly this quality of his, that Momonga had respected the most about him. True to his nature he had told Momonga in his dying message to stop festering in the past and have another shot at real life. He even sent a verified letter of recommendation along with the message.

After hesitating for weeks Suzuki applied with it for a new job in an engineering office, despite having only graduated from elementary school. The bosses were highly skeptical, but Touch-Me's memory still held respect in the business world and they gave him a chance. What he lacked in education, he made up with tenacity and lateral thinking and finally his superiors recognized his meticulous work and offered him a permanent post.

For the first time in his adult life he received recognition and praise in the real world, but it still felt, like Suzuki Satoru was his true mask, the avatar, instead of Momonga. He could not forsake Yggdrasil and returned every night to the server, only now with a healed ego and new motivation.

Just maintaining the Great Tomb of Nazarick was no longer enough for him, he needed a new goal, something to look forward to. But his gear was almost perfect and trying to rob other guilds of their World Items would have been a fool's errant. Even decked out with his best gear and cash items it would have been in practice impossible to best a whole guild capable of securing a World Item and its homes defenses all on his own.

Momonga focused instead on an altogether different goal, a feature heavily criticized by players at the release of game, yet quickly forgotten, when the first guilds formed: the solo endgame rewards. In theory players could, depending on their class and race levels, unlock additional rewards, once they had hit the level cap. The dominant humanoid and demi-humanoid races could each earn extremely powerful user bound gear beyond even the quality of divine gear or access to permanent aura blessings from the deities of Yggdrasils lore. Staying in tune with their focus on race levels the unpopular heteromorphic races instead gained additional levels on top of the normal level cap and immunity to the level drain from dying.

It was still easier to find a hen's teeth than a player, who ever achieved that for a simple reason. The requirements of the individual quest chains, that unlocked them, were of such ridiculous difficulty, that the usual farming for divine gear in a guild was by far more efficient to compete in the end-game than meeting all the requirements of the solo rewards, which had to be repeated in their entirety, should the player drop below level 100 before finishing the quest. Momonga himself only saw two such players in the 12 years he played and one of them had been Touch-Me's final opponent in the tournament, that won him the title of World Champion.

For Momonga, who already owned an extensive collection of divine gear and had access to the equipment of one of Yggdrasil's once mightiest guilds, it was a perfect challenge. He had been an Overlord, the final evolution of the Elder Lich, itself an upgrade of the skeleton mage race. His build emulated the stereotypical undead magic caster with a strong focus on instant death magic and summoning monsters to bind his enemies.

Rolling with the inherent strengths of his race he had developed his character into a PvE killing machine, so he had expected some kind of monster hunt or dungeon diving to qualify for the class. When he finally had found the tome, that would start the quest he learned, he was correct. Mostly.

It was indeed a head hunt, but not for monsters or obscure treasure. No, the developers had decided, that the prey of the Overlord race would be guild masters, he had to slay without any allied players backing. Each of his targets had to be of a different race and guild to advance his quest.

His first attempt ended after guild master number 8, when the rest of his target's guild returned too early from their raid and simply mobbed the floor with the lonely heteromorph, who had sneaked into their base. It took him 2 months of leveling up back to the cap and locating a new tome, before he could start his second attempt.

Momonga had been for a long time an avid user of cash items, consumable tools, that could only be bought with real money instead of the in-game resources or gold currency and had often invested a third of the income of his old job for that purpose, since he lived alone and had no other relatives or passions to support besides Yggdrasil.

This time he was not as thrifty and his expenses reached a new height. In the time of 9 months he spent so much money on cash items as he used to earn in his old job in a whole year. If not for the better pay in the engineering office, he would have went bankrupt. He knew a normal person would have questioned his mental health for spending so much money on a game, but to him it made no sense to hoard it. He had always been a virgin single, had no friends to hang out with after work and no known relatives, that could inherit from him. After his death the earnings would have been lost anyway.

His almost fanatical dedication to his goal worked. The willingness to spend in one fight, what others earned in a whole week was a tremendous advantage and he started to score more and more guild master kills. Then he met target number 49, an enemy like none he ever encountered before.

Momonga had been willing to spent most of his income in Yggdrasil, but the guild master Dagon Berth, was a filthy rich member of an industrial clan, as he later learned. The last member of Ainz Ooal Gown belonged to the elite of the elite of Yggdrasil's player base and had at that point more knowledge of the game and experience in fighting other pros than most Players could ever forget.

But Dagon Berth also knew how to use his gifts. Instead of fighting he fled from Momonga and offered every player he met during his escape from the driven man real cash bribes just to stall him. Despite the resistance Momonga foolishly kept chasing, untill Dagon Berth's guild had finally assembled and saved their leader and sugar daddy.

Again he had to crawl back to the starting line and Momonga realized, he had to overhaul his whole approach. He had relied on his extensive knowledge of the game, fighting experience and willingness to spent money and still he failed. While he leveled back to the cap in winter 2135/36 he started to develop a new mindset to solving the problem. He fathomed, that even with his formidable skills and dedication he could not match or safely anticipate the power a guild master commanded.

So instead of spending even more time in Yggdrasil he decided to do the opposite.

Yggdrasil was already in decline and with it the number of viable targets. Often enough he could not switch to an easier victim or postpone the hit, because the guild master was the last of his race occupying such a position and he had to farm him or her, before they quit the game. His use of cash items declined, but not his expenses.

Momonga thoroughly investigated all intel he could get in his claws and began to resort to tactics, some would have called underhanded and many more reprehensible. Bribing other guilds to attack his target was among the nicer methods he used, but he didn't stop there. In-game Momonga let go of his moral inhibitions and started to use every dirty trick, he could think of.

Bait them into Nazarick and cut them down once they fled its terrible defenses? Check.

Support a less competent player with gold and gear, so he could succeed his current master, just to be slain afterwards by Momonga? Check.

Call the police or fire fighters to his opponent's home? Check.

Falsely offer players, no matter which race, a place in Nazarick so they would abandon their old guild? Check.

Crack the guild master's mind with false messages of passed relatives or an unknown child? Check.

Momonga considered every tactic worthwhile, as long as it brought him closer to his goal. At one time he learned of the suicide of one guild master, after he planted the rumor, said GM had manipulated the vote for the position. The only thing he refrained from was cheating and active physical harm of his opponents in real life. He was acutely aware, that his old friends, even the chuunibyo Ulbert Alain Odle, would have been horrified by his deeds, but to lonely Momonga only the final goal, the prestige class mattered.

Finally the deceiving Overlord faced his one hundredth target and was instead duped himself in a trap instigated and supported by many of his victims. It would have been a bitter-sweet revenge to watch him fail so close to his goal, to see all the hate and rejection, Momonga had embraced in his dedication, be for naught.

The tables had turned, the hunter became the prey and when they had finally cornered him, cut off from any escape, he indulged in the last glee, that remained his in the hour of failure: spite. Rather than granting the wronged their vengeance, he used his remaining power to kill himself.

He robbed them of their retribution in that last act of betrayal and was rewarded for it. Momonga became unintentionally his final sacrifice and revived in Nazarick, not as an overlord of reduced level, but as a level 101 character. He was the first and last heteromorphic player to finish the solo endgame quest chain.

In fall 2137 Overlord and Master of Death Momonga became a memory.

From now the [End] walked Yggdrasil on a greedy quest to restore the treasures of Nazarick, he had spent on his immoral endeavor. Apart from a few humanoid and demi-humanoid players he had become the singular most powerful player in all of Yggdrasil and the most hated one, but instead of the game becoming easier, it became even harder, as the story of his accomplishment spread.

He was certain, that this last attack on Nazarick had been, at least for some members of the raid party, motivated by the wish for revenge, because he had recognized several of the attackers as guild masters or Players, he had duped.

It had been one of the closest battles he ever fought, partly because of the sheer number of enemies, each a veteran of the game in his own right, that had gathered and partly, because never before an enemy succeeded in breaching the 8th floor. Most guilds and alliances, that had tried to conquer Ainz Ooal Gown's home, did not even make it past the third floor and the first NPC guardian, a true combat monster designed by his friend ( and outspoken erotic games lover) Peroroncino.

It would never again come to that to his great regret.

Yggdrasil would shut down tonight. Ragnarok had come. After 12 years of domineering the multiplayer games market its era would end and with it: Momonga. Only Suzuki Satoru would survive the night.

Tomorrow and everyday thereafter he would have to wake up with the knowledge of the many crimes he committed with nothing to show for it. He could no longer stave off the the thoughts, he denied for so long. In the end it would have all been for nothing.

_And what will I do then? Find a new game, hope that someday a successor to Yggdrasil will be released? Could I even find the heart to try something new?_

One last time the skeleton moved its left hand to summon 1.5 meters in front of it a levitating countdown in red letters, not much larger than the flat of a hand, that had almost reached its terminus.

_In precious few moments all this will be gone. Ainz Ooal Gown's glory will be forgotten, just as my only friends are already lost to me, Will my memories fade in time, too, slightly different with each time I recall them?_

_Will they die happy, sad or angry, those figments?_

_I want to sleep her. I can shower in the morning. Its no big deal. No one to judge here, anyway. Farewell Yggdrasil._

Wondered the damned player and counted the last seconds, as mental exhaustion dragged him to sleep.

_5_

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

_…_

_…_   
_Did someone break a door?_

_…_

_Steps, so many steps?_

_…_

_Did I hear a zipper?_

_…_

_That noise... it must be hailing._


	2. The Lord

God is an Idiot

When you close your eyes, what do you see?

It is not nothing, not even just black.

It would be an infinite, yet depthless, darkness. But in it truly uncountable tiny spots of lights would twinkl. You would koew, that despite their number each one was different and you would barely grasp a few, yet alone their pattern in its entirety.

Without an idea to make sense of he kept searching. He flew to this star, but it was gone, he went for those others, but they had fled. And he stopped at that one.

The one with with his friends at heart, that would not leave. All of his 40 comrades winked for him in unity and with shouting emojis over their passive faces. He felt mirth tickle his soul when seeing the monstrous fiddler crap, his forging obsessed friend Amanomahitotsu, salute for him. Almost forgotten rage ignitel his heart, as Luci#fer, the chaos engine, grinned and steel fill his back, as Touch-Me, the guild's paladin, raised his sword.

_Get up, it's time to work._

_Why didn't my alarm sound?_

Yesterday his greatest obsession had been taken from him and he hated the prospect of never experiencing it again, but he still had obligations to fulfill. He had spent the night still jacked in his dive stool, knowing from previous times, that his whole body would hurt the next day from overstimulated nerves, but he had not cared. This way he had at least one less night to see his stale, broken down apartment.

But now he had to get clean and go to work, so he reached for the display helmet he had left on last night, yet his hand did not find the familiar worn plastic.

He felt touching himself, though it was a strange. Even if he had somehow dropped the helm while asleep, his skin never felt so hard and hairless and he was sure, he cut his nails a few days ago, but still small claws scratched over his temple and forehead.

Alarmed he opened his eyes and discovered, that he was not in the windowless concrete cell he called home. He was still sitting on the Throne of Kings on Nazarick's 10th floor.

_Why am I still diving and running Yggdrasil?_

Were his first thoughts, before he reached full consciousness and looked perplexed at his hand.

_Did I just feel real touch?_

_No, it's most likely just a side effect of staying jacked in._

_But why is Yggdrasil running?_

At first glance everything looked, like he had left it last night. The NPC Albedo still posed on his right armchair, the braziers still burned with smokeless flames and his wandering gaze confirmed, he was still alone. But it felt different.

He needed a few seconds, before he noticed, that the room appeared brighter. What had been previously shrouded in shadows now easily revealed itself to his eyes, even the furthest corners of the ceiling could not hide in darkness. The game looked crisper and his brain began to rattle, as he tried to make sense of the situation.

_Could it be an update? A planned marketing dupe to rekindle interest in Yggdrasil? The developers never announced a sequel or a new project, so maybe they worked on an upgrade in secret._

_Nonesense._

_That would be crazy. Who in their right mind would let the user numbers and the connected income drop, when they could have been hooked with the promise of an improved game? I never heard a credible rumor of something like that._

_Do I even have time to wonder? I hope I'm not already late for work. What time is it anyway? I can't remember turning off my health- and mana-bar or the whole HUD as a matter of fact._

He needed to check the menu and habitually moved his right hand to open it, forcing it out of its position under Albedo's butt.

_That felt-_

"Are we done posing, Lord Momonga?"

Asked an alluring woman's voice.

Smooth like a wild cat the black haired beauty on his armrest leaned into his right shoulder and looked up to him with a relaxed smile.

_She talks and uses facial expression! That is definitely new! There was no option in Yggdrasil to add voice lines to custom NPCs, so where does the sound file come from? Did the upgrade add them? This is getting stranger and stranger._

_Or maybe it's not and I'm hallucinating. It wouldn't be the first time dehydration messed with my mind. It was a long night afterall and I have no clue how much time has passed since._

Momonga ignored the NPC and swiped his hand to open the menu, but nothing happened.

Albedo resumed her pose, but kept watching him, as he swiped several times again without success.

_The input seems to be buggy. I think I recall similar issues from the initial release of Yggdrasil, but it's odd the developers would repeat that mistake after shit storm back then. But voice command should still function. That was never an issue._

He stopped his movement and spoke instead.

"Menu! Ahem, Menu! What is wrong with my voice?"

The words lacked the hoarse quality, his vocals had acquired after decades of exposure to Earth's polluted air. They sounded pleasantly modulated and deep, a lords voice, not one belonging to just another nameless wage slave.

But more troublesome: nothing happened.

"Menu!"

"Menu!"

"MENU!"

The menu, the access to his abilities, his inventory and, most importantly, the outside world failed to appear and Momonga began to worry in earnest. His life was in mortal danger if he stayed stuck in the game. The only people with an interest in him were his employers and it could take days, before someone investigated his absence. By then he could have already died of thirst. He absolutely had to get help!

_This is more than a little bug! How could the shitty developers release such a dangerous product?_

_Stay Calm! I must not panic!_

_I haven't yet tried all options. The menu and sign commands might not work, but there is still a chance, I can access my abilities with voice commands. If the [Message] spell still works I could call an admin._

Reasoned Momonga in an effort to calm himself and spoke quickly.

"Message Admin!"

Still nothing happened, so he tried a few other commands, that the game should also have registered as an order to call an administrator.

"Message Administrator!"

"Message Controller!"

"Message Supervisor?"

No one answered. He did not even hear a signal, that no one was available.

"Please excuse my impudence, Lord Momonga, I don't know who you are trying to contact, but you need to concentrate."

Said the Albedo and he turned irritated to her smirking face.

_She spoke again in response to my actions! Shit, I must be already turning delirious!_

_But what do I have to lose in listening to this hallucination? I am finished anyway, if I do nothing._

_Okay, here goes nothing. Time for wishful thinking._

Momonga was out of options, so he decided to attempt the proposal and tried to focus, despite the rising panic he felt, on his desperate wish.

_I_

_just_

_want_

_to_

_[Message]_

_ANYONE!_

An alien sensation filled him and suddenly he saw something form in his vision. What he experienced was unlike anything, he ever saw in the game before. He would have described it as countless fine lines of shadows rising out him, that rapidly coiled up, but that would have been only an analogy. He did not truly experience the pattern forming in response to his wish as a visual sensation, because it seemed to call to an altogether new sense, he had never felt before. In the blink of an eye the pattern lit up in the familiar magic runes, that marked the use of magic in Yggdrasil, before completely burning out to nothing

_Did I just cast a-_

He did not get to wonder further, as all of a sudden a roaring cacophony of voices, few of them in languages he could understand, drowned out his own mental voice. Even if each one was only a tiny droplet, an ocean was crashing down on him. It became harder and harder to hear his own thoughts, as the noise pressed mercilessly down on any intent of his own. It was pure agony and only with great effort did he manage to finally form in the storm a new intent.

_[End] it!_

At once the world was silent again, filled only by Momonga's own confused thoughts.

_What was that? These voices... Those were not audio messages! I heard them in my very mind! And who did I listen to anyway? There were so many and only the tiniest part of them sounded human._

_Just what the hell is going on?_

"Lord Momonga, are you alright?"

Inquired Albedo again and he let the hands drop, he had involuntarily pressed in pain to his head, as he looked at her and snapped.

"Yes, I am fine!"

_Why am I talking to a program?_

_Scolded he immediately himself for the bout of lunacy._

_And yet..._

Now, that he actually paid attention to her, he had to admit, that he never saw such a lifelike animation. Although it had been years since he watched a vid in his free time instead of playing Yggdrasil, he could not recall ever seeing an animated person as convincing as her. Even his work colleagues appeared bleak in his memory compared to the woman sitting next to him.

Momonga could not stop himself reaching fascinated for her cheek and while her eyes attentively followed his hand with a raised brow, she made no attempt to shrink back and let him explore, as he desired. Her skin was as smooth as marble and yet soft, but most importantly, it was warm!

Already alarmed Momonga leaned closer and sniffed her hair. It did not, as he had started to expect, smell of perfume or a conditioner, but of something else he could not place, just slightly sweaty, but in no way unpleasant. Yet the question, if this was a natural scent, was secondary to the doubts that filled his head.

_These sensations... How can I feel all of the sudden so much with my touch? Yggdrasil was never able to provide so much feedback and a sense of heat or smell shouldn't even be possible. It would need an extremely expensive hardware upgrade, not just a software one, to enable it and for all I know, that technology is still in its infancy, while I am still using the same dive throne I bought over 12 years ago!_

_There is just no way for this to be a badly marketed upgrade or Yggdrasil 2! But that would mean..._

"This is real. You are real."

"Of course I am, Lord Momonga. How could I not be, if I was willed into existence by the Supreme Beings?"

Responded Albedo like it was an obvious fact, but to him it was still a difficult idea to process. Despite all the the evidence: how could a video game become reality?

He needed another test to convince himself.

"I need to squeeze you breasts, for science."

_Please be reasonable._

Albedo rose her eye brows further, while Momonga felt strange thoughts bubble up in his head.

_There is no way this could be allowed in a game under the minor-protection laws! If I can touch her boobs, it would prove it can't be a game!_

_Wait. What am I thinking?_

_This is actually stupid. Why do I consider a man-made law as a law of reality? Right now I simply can't tell a difference. That's what actually matters most!_

_I should try something with the intent of disproving reality for a start, instead of proving it, although of course I can't really judge my objectivity anyway, making both ideas vain in turn._

_But what if it is indeed a very convincing fake? I once spoke with Touch-Me and Yamaiko about the idea of Yggdrasil being a giant cover for an experiment. My hypothesis was that Yggdrasil and the single server served as a test bed for a neural network to evolve into a strong artificial intelligence similar enough to a human mind to communicate. Our champion dismissed the idea as ridiculous, but Yaimaiko thought it was chiefly a tragedy. The thought of an alien mind forming unguided into a mirror of mankind frightened her and actually quickly caused the discussion to end, before it could get really interesting. They never understood why such an hypothetical a.i. must be considered an offspring and evolution of mankind, a child. Mankind begot a child just as man and woman beget a child._

_Still doesn't mean you should not put it in place, if it miss-behaves, but I am digressing._

_Here. Now._

_My Avatar, Albedo, apparently parts of my abilities, the throne room and by assumption Nazarick have become my reality._

_So are we also still in Helheim and Yggdrasil? And did the other Players remaining on the server also make the transition? I need to check my position._

_If there are other players here, should I contact or avoid them? What if they heard of my deeds?_

_Who am I kidding, they must have heard of me._

_Damn._

_Friendly contact is most unlikely. So unfriendly contact? I can't fight a whole server on my own, even if it is deserted! On the other hand... if the rules of life and death still apply... Worst case I can still grind them down butt naked..._

_...For all of eternity._

_Shit._

_Can I use all of my skills or just some? How did my stats translate into this very real feeling body?_

_If so, how long would it take for them to master their abilities?_

_I can not waste any more time and have to – Oh she is starting to blink!_

Albedo blinked only once slowly, before a sly smile spread on her lips to his surprise and she answered, while leaning toward him.

"Of course, Lord Momonga. Please, go ahead."

_Just like that? No fit, no discussion? She is fine with it?_

"You don't mind?"

Asked Momonga tensely, but she just bounced her breast once with a short laugh and said.

"Not at all. It is my pleasure to serve you in any capacity I am able to."

_If she says so._

Momonga carefully cupped one of her large breast, so he could feel its weight. He knew and saw clearly, that she was well endowed, but it was still the first time he actually touched a woman's breast outside of an accident.

_So that is how a breast feels? I never really expected to get to touch one before I die, even if it is just an experiment, but I think I am starting to understand some of the obsession of my colleagues over them._

_And, oh wonder, no lightning bolt from the sky ripped me back to reality. I guess I really am no longer on the Yggdrasil server._

"...toil beneath you."

Heard he partially Albedo and asked.

"Say again?"

"I said it is a pleasure for a servant of Nazarick to toil beneath you." answered Albedo dutifully and Momonga discovered his next dilemma.

_I totally forgot she is but one of Nazarick's NPCs. Are the rest of them as forthcoming as her and is she truly an ally or playing with me? I feel confident facing them one-on-one, but what if they are truly hostile and gang up on me?_

_I should at least stop fondling her, before I make my first enemy._

Momonga let go of her breast and asked, while she returned unperturbed to her previous pose.

"Who exactly owns your loyalty, Albedo?"

It was a simple questions, but the frown that raced over her face betrayed the unsettling effect it had on her.

"You and and the Supreme Beings, whom gave us servants life."

"In that order?"

Inquired Momonga and locked eyes with her challenging. The tiny red sparks of his hollow eye holes bore into her slit golden orbs, that darted nervously between his mouth and left and right eye, for what seemed to him like a small eternity.

"In that order?"

Asked he again without breaking contact and she finally averted her gaze. Albedo stood up and walked slowly in front of the throne under Momonga's careful watch, but she did not face him.

A floating head sized sphere, blacker than any night he ever experienced before, appeared to her right.

_What is she doing? Could this be her inventory access?_

Without hesitating Albedo plunged her hand into it to draw a long steel handle out, he immediately recognized. She had retrieved her two handed battle axe, an elegant sleek weapon without any ornaments like so many of Yggdrasil's items. Instead it sported three recesses to ostensibly reduce cutting friction and imbalance, each as sharp edged as the main blade.

Momonga tensed, but willed himself to stay calm to not endanger the chance of her actions being friendly. As soon as the weapon had fully entered reality the sphere disappeared and she flipped its full length, so she could present it on the flat of her hands.

_No attack. That is a good start._

"My Lord..."

Whispered Albedo without looking up.

"My life's only ambition is to serve you. Always you, but..."

She barely choked a moment on her words before continuing.

"But if I have lost your trust I have already failed and my life serves no point. Thus I must die, as a failure and a danger to you and Nazarick.

Please have then this last clemency and let it be by your hand.

My Lord Momonga."

He rose too and took her battle axe to feel its weight and further inspect its form, while she let her arms drop.

Suzuki Satori had never held a real weapon. The closest he ever got was a twenty centimeter kitchen knife, a tool of notable weight and small measure.

The murder instrument Momonga held had little in common. Almost the length of a full grown man and weighting over seven kg it felt like nothing compared to his memory of the knife. Oh sure, somewhere he could place its weight, but he felt so much more strength waiting to be unleashed. After lifting it a few times he threw it lightly up and caught it perfectly balanced again on the claw tip of his index without actually trying.

Really using this body for the first time was amazing. I felt like his actions were only limited by his imagination and he itched to test them, but graver matters were at hand. The axe dropped into his hand again, while his other went for her scalp.

"Why won't you look up?"

Asked Momonga and she answered behind the veil of black hair.

"I am ashamed I lost your trust and I do not want to see, when I die, my Lord."

Albedo obeyed his changing grip and looked up. Her stare was dewy, but hard and ready to accept his choice as her fate, no matter the outcome. His gut had told him she should be loyal considering her determined role and supportive actions, but reason knew, there was always a chance for another play acting out behind the curtain.

But now his instinct finally beat down on the cynicism and he let go of her head. Long bone fingers parted her hair, so Momonga' claw could gently catch the droplets below her eyes and he said.

"You just earned my trust for the first time."

Her face stayed hard, but he saw the slit of her eyes flicker and spoke further.

"Today, I, Momonga, accept you, Albedo, as your liege."

Finally her smile returned weakly, but relieved and she answered in turn.

"And I, Albedo, accept my only overlord Momonga."

She was about to bent her knee, but he stopped her with a tender hold on her shoulder and offered her her weapon back. She accepted his will and the item without words and made room for him to move past her towards the doors leading out of the throne room.

One glance back made her follow without the need for saying so and as he they walked to doors he looked at his hands. Momonga inspected the rings on each of his finger and one among them especially carefully. Golden, with a large clear , but uncut ruby within its center it was a masterpiece of gem-crafting, but it was not its aesthetics, that made it special to him.

In Yggdrasil it had conferred upon its bearer the ability to freely teleport within the confines of Nazarick without a few exceptions. It was most useful in the giant tomb, which was otherwise completely warded against teleportation magic, but its importance to Ainz was of a different nature.

It was one of the Rings of Ainz Ooal Gown, the prove of his status as a member of his beloved guild. Every member of Ainz Ooal Gown had once owned one, but when they started to withdraw from the game they had left them along with their gear for Momonga and now he was the last ring bearer.

They stopped as they reached the edge of the room

The portal leading out of Nazarick's heart loomed almost to the chandelier hung ceiling and beautiful scenes of battling warriors encircled by an endless horde of monsters were carved into the dark granite of its wings. No mere human could have wielded the strength to push it open, but Momonga was no longer human and pointed his hand at it , like he was feeling its surface from afar. He was not.

He was focusing his thoughts again, as Albedo had instructed him, when he tried to cast his first spell and after a brief moment he felt the energy stream and coil out of him and the [Tekekinesis]-spell ignite.

Silently, without any expected noise of grinding gears or scrapping stone the portals wings swung open.

Momonga turned to his companion and offered his hand, which she accepted with a slightly abashed smile and let him lead her into the high, but narrow corridor on the other side of the door. Neither said a word, only their steps resounded from the empty halls, until they crossed the portal and a brief flash of light left Nazaricks throne room silent and lonely once more.


	3. The Man of Faith

God is an Idiot

In the blink of an eye Momonga left the throne room of Nazarick behind. Instead of the corridor leading to the room of the Pleiades Six Star, the combat maids and last line of token defense, his skeletal foot touched down in a small and dark hall.

He let go of Albedo's white gloved hand, who had been teleported alongside him by the power of the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown, and looked around. The center of the unlit room was dominated by the wide steps leading further down behind them, each made of the same spotless black marble, that also covered the ground and plain walls. Though aesthetically pleasing the true decor of room was hidden above them.

Only due to his new enhanced senses could he appreciate the artful reliefs in the gem studded ceiling. Shallow carvings of the zodiac signs like lion, water bearer and the twins, but also many more, that had by this time been mostly forgotten on Earth, circled the empty, gem free center of the dome. Momonga had of course known of them, he had passed this room almost every night for the past twelve years, after all. Only now began he to realize, what singular piece of art the Great Tomb of Nazarick truly was. Actually he could not remember ever seeing another dungeon in Yggdrasil, that sported decor of even remotely similar quality.

_It appears Nazarick made the transition in its entirety as well, otherwise it would have been an strange coincidence, if everything else was left behind. Maybe Albedo knows more, at least she does not appear to have noticed any change at all._

Mused Momonga before he addressed his guardian overseer.

"Albedo, can you confirm Nazarick wholeness? Is everything still intact?"

"One moment, please, my Lord."

Answered the fallen angel dutifully, before placing a finger to her temple and concentrating. Momonga observed her for a moment and quickly noticed, that although her features remained impassive, her eyes disclosed with their slight movements and changes, that she was having a mental conversation, before his attention was drawn to the steps leading down to the second level.

Something familiar from down there called to him through the stench of decay, that welled up from the deep. Momonga focused on it and at once instinctively realized, it was not something, but many things he felt moving below him in orderly formations, he immediately associated with the layout of the level. Most of them felt faint, almost insignificant, but one presence eclipsed them all by far, even combined, and realization hit him.

_Is this how my skill [Undead Blessing] expresses now? Are those the guardian Shalltear Bloodfallen and the undead defending the first three floors?_

"Lord Momonga?"

Broke Albedo his contemplation and he turned back from the stairs to hear her report.

"All guardians answered and confirmed Nazarick's integrity. Everyone is on their post and none reported any damage."

"Noted. Thank you, Albedo."

Acknowledged Momonga and walked towards the heavy metal doors opposite the stairs, while she accepted the praise with a dignified smile and a small bow. As he placed his hands on the flat surface of its wings he noticed foremost how warm they felt, not cold as he had anticipated.

_Helheim was supposed to be world of shadows and freezing cold, yet the door feels warm?_

His hands traveled further down the metal, till they got hold of the two rings serving as handles for Nazarick's entrance and pulled. A bright rift opened before him.

_This can't be Helheim!_

Outside greeted a sunny day and lush trees beyond the plaza and high wall, that surrounded the entrance of Nazarick, instead of Helheim's perpetual twilight and dead woods. Momonga strode out on the paved walk crossing the two rings of columns between the outer wall and the dorian temple, that hid the tomb beneath it and, despite the needlessness, took a deep breath.

The air lacked the sour smell and fine dust of the world he was born on. It was fresh and clean and carried so many aromas the earthling Suzuki Satoru could have never even imagined.

_So it can't be Earth or Helheim, which could turn out to be a blessing or a curse. Maybe it was only Nazarick and its denizens who had left Yggdrasil, but if so, where to? Is this a dangerous place? Is it already inhabited and if so, do those inhabitants pose a threat to the tomb?_

Albedo followed and quickly raised her arm with an annoyed grunt to shield her eyes, once she stepped in the bright midday sun.

"Ugh!"

Groaned she.

Please excuse me for a moment, Lord Momonga. I need a few seconds to get used to the light. It is my first time outside the throne room."

"Ha. Ha ha..."

Chuckled Momonga and Albedo asked with the faintest note of annoyance.

"Does my suffering please you, my Lord?"

He swiftly calmed down and denied with a final puff.

"Not at all. I was amused because."

Momonga turned around and pointed with wide arms and a minimal nod to his sides.

"I'll have to adventure."

Albedo rose one brow. He spoke merely on.

"I will take a self-educated crash course in 'this place'."

Momonga pointed with both index fingers at the ground below him.

"And to do that safely I need your help."

Albedo's second brow and mouth corner began to follow up their sibling...

"Here, in Nazarick."

… and immediately slipped and crashed, but still she dutifully answered, if somewhat stuttering.

"Of Course. I am happy. To serve... What is it you require of me?"

Momonga stalled a moment, before asking in turn.

"Do you feel alright?"

Albedo waved his scrutiny away, although her face didn't get better.

"No, no, my Lord, I will be fine. I am still adjusting to the light. That is all. Please, tell me what you require of me."

She didn't sound very enthusiastic, but Momonga had to think of some of his old colleagues, when seeing her. The poor sods really had suffered from even the shortest amounts of true environmental exposure, always coughing for a few minutes right after arriving at office. It would have been unfair to hold that slip against her, so he got to the point to minimize her time of suffering.

"What I need is you confirming the loyalty of all of Nazarick's denizens to me."

Albedo shook off her state and turned serious. After a moment of thought she asked.

"Loyal to you, the Lord of Nazarick, or loyal to the last Supreme Being, Lord Momonga?"

_Clever girl._

"Ha ha ha. You understand."

Laughed Momonga at her response.

"I do, my Lord. I will be meticulous and discrete."

Confirmed Albedo with a faint blush and short aversion of her eyes. When she looked back again she faced Momonga's flat hand and a gold ruby ring.

"Take the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown."

Spoke Momonga lower and calmly.

"If it comes to a fight and you are not absolutely sure you will win: Run."

Albedo disbelievingly picked the ring, when his large hard fingers closed around her slender ones and enclosed them with his other. It stopped her response in its tracks, giving time for Momonga to calmly remind her again.

"You will run."

He did not command her. He only stated, as is would be.

Momonga carefully opened her hand again. He picked the ring himself adroitly between the tip of two claws and placed it her ring finger. Albedo stared in wonder at the jewel, as she held her right hand like a tiny pup, till Momonga's voice broke the spell.

"In the meantime I will try to learn as much as possible to allow us a first evaluation of our situation. If Nazarick ended up here, there is a chance other Players also did."

"Us..."

Mutter Albedo briefly before asking.

"And how long will you be gone, my Lord?"

"Not long, I hope, a few days. Do not worry so much, I know how to take care of myself."

Placated he the worry, than vibrated in her question.

"Ha, if nothing else, my Lord."

Snorted Albedo amused and tried hard to suppress more slips of protocol.

Momonga lightly grunted too in sympathy by sheer habit, although his skull could not express any emotion besides an unhinged jaw, letting the happy moment simply happen.

Both soon composed themselves again and watched the other: Momonga like a timeless statue from the cemetery and she with a tired, but content smile.

"Lord Momonga..."

Said Albedo.

"Hmm?"

"Please accept this little blessing."

Before he could wonder what she was talking about Albedo leaned tiptoed on his chest and placed a small kiss on his cheek. He was still dumbstruck as she went down again and quickly hurried back into the tomb with the parting words.

"Best of luck to you, my Lord."

She vanished in a flash as soon as she stepped into the shadow of the temple's inside and Momonga stood alone, locked out of his home by his own liar's paranoia.

_Well, time to have fun._

The End clapped happily his hands and stretched one leg to spin a 180 degrees and march full stride to the walls, while merrily singing.

"Freude schöner Goetterfunke, Tochter aus Elysium..."

Momonga reached the portal leading outside of Nazarick's bounds with the forest's plants just beyond the stones and raised one finger.

"Wir betreten feuertrunken Himmlische, dein Heiligtum..."

Some may have theorized about the butterfly effect causing a hurricane, but none could have imagined the wiggle effect of Momonga's index. In the fraction of a second the trees, the bushes, the shrubbery and the little rat tailed hamster, that had entered fake death in his presence were sucked away and a brief flash of blinding light later his path was clear.

Momonga happily walked on into the hundred meter wide flat pan in the blackened earth, while the trees beyond burned.

"Deine Zauber binden wieder, was der Mode Schwerd getheilt..."

The uncountable sparks of the forest fire found a will of their own, as he passed the pans lowest point and flowed like swarms of locust, that wanted all to eat each other first and themselves second.

As Momonga stopped on the way up the fire sparks had formed the imitation of a towering, brutish shape. They quickly stabilized with a last puff of flames into a gigantic dragon headed djinn made of fire and smoke, a primal fire elemental, that bellowed its challenge.

"Bettler werden Fuerstenbrueder..."

The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown appeared with a spin in his left hand and Momonga accepted his foes threat with a rising finger, as he turned to face it.

"Wo dein sanfter Fluegel weilt."

* * *

12 kilometers west of Nazarick, at the edge of the Great Forest of Tob raced 46 hearts. Although everyone of their human holders carried the same dark gray gown with white accents, each heart was driven by a unique feeling. One beat with impatience, as it watched the village two kilometers over the open plain north of them.

Another felt satisfaction in the warm afternoon sun, as the still air carried faint melodies of ringing steel and wailing screams while his young neighbor feared for the safety of those brothers in arms, they had sent into the little settlement.

Their scarred captain's heart was facing off against his brain. It was his command, that had sent the Theocracy's knights into this insignificant clustering of human life to kill indisciminatingly. Over a hundred souls would be left to the judgment of the gods, just like the good seven hundred, whom already had perished by his command. Close to a thousand souls had to fall, so one more man would die. That man compromised much of the strength of a failing Kingdom, a nation, that had become inept by the arrogance and waste of its leading caste and threatened to drag down all of mankind with it, when its inevitable collapse would set in.

The sick Kingdom had to fall soon, so humanity in its whole could heal that festering wound.

But those poor people, they had slaughtered were not the ones, that gambled with mankind's future. They had been honest, hardy folk with the will and nerves to eek out a living in the dangerous frontier. To him the bravest men and women in the world were not soldiers, heroes or kings, but the weak settlers, that expanded civilizations borders. They were the first facing most of the terrifying threats, that beset mankind.

Bandits often hassled the people and sometimes magic would drive its wielder mad, but how could that compare to the alien danger outside? There were eldritch artifacts of nightmares provoking power out there, monster, that were plain and simple impossible to defeat by human might and, of course, sheer endless hordes of cannibalistic beastmen.

Captain Nigun Grid Luin suppressed a shudder, when he thought about some of the scenarios strategic intelligence back in Humanitas, the Theocracy's capital, had researched. Just a beastmen mass migration or unification could turn out, worst cast, in human extinction. Thankfully they, the Sunlight Scripture of the Slane Theocracy, did good work in stopping the demihumans from gathering strength and cooperating by carefully orchestrating operations all over the borders of of the human realms.

But there were so many more threats lurking in the shadoes and he and his comrades had to trust their brothers from the other scriptures to protect them. That also meant sometimes accepting their help, just as at times they would make use of the Sunlight Scripture's proficiency for assassination. Considering the monstrous strength of their target Nigun felt it only prudent to have asked his scripture for help.

They were expected to suffer the least casualties, when facing the trump card of the kingdom, that was supposed to be as strong as any adamantite adventurers the pinnacles of human might. Nigun still worried, whom of his men, or maybe even him, would not return home. While the captain was assured of their victory, he still had to keep reminding the civilian in him to accept the facts of the world. It was his lot to sacrifice human life to save more human life in the long run.

His duty required him to calculate in souls and their target had the misfortune of ending on the expense pages of humanity's books, that needed to be addressed.

On that note Nigun stopped squinting through the leaves and twigs at the village and looked down to his comrade Jedos, who was squatting down to his right and staring on the pages of a tome of divination. It was a, relatively speaking, of course, cheap item and yet among the most vital gear of all Scriptures, as it allowed a 3rd level divine magic caster to sustain the spell [Farsight] indefinitely.

Nigun's sky blue eyes had used its sight from the sky often enough themselves and now they were waiting for their target to finally arrive. Jedos had discovered more than four dozen riders heading for the bait an hour ago. Once they entered open land he had confirmed, that Gazef Strongoff, the Warrior Captain and champion of King Rampusa the Third of Re-Estize, led them.

Gazef was expected to arrive within minutes and Nigun's men were already finishing their last preparations. They were all picked from the elite of mankind and at minimum the equal of adventurers of platinum or mythril rank, talented men and women, who were at least capable of casting tier three divine spells. Nigun considered himself equal of orichalcum rank and could comfortably cast tier four magic, although the spheres of a [Revive]-spell were far out of his reach. Still he felt confidently protected, even against the adamantite might of Gazef Strongoff, since he cast along with his team [Divine Shield] and [Limited Resistance] on himself in addition to reassuring confidence and clarity, his [Bless]ing had bestowed upon the Scripture. Even his robes offered him the protection of mythril-hardened full-plate armor thanks to his enchanted Amulet of Protection.

Right now his troops prepared their scrolls, a choice left to the personal taste and strengths of the individual member. Satisfied with his men's concentration on the task Nigun looked to his left for his Lieutenant and found the spot empty.

Annoyed he began to look around, when he heard a rustle in the bushes behind them. It was the missing officer who quickly scurried back to his post, while closing the last buttons of his robe. His name was Detleev , one among the oldest team members and unfortunately he was starting to show. Nigun had noticed him becoming slower with time and if now his bladder was acting up, too, he should discharge him honorably and point him to a healer after the hit, before he got himself killed. He could continue serving by sharing his experience to the next generation, after all.

Detleev took his place on Nigun's left with sheepish grin under his wide gray mustachio, that quickly faltered, as he saw Nigun's testy frown. His neck reaching forehead creased with wrinkles, when he asked.

"What?"

No title in his address and no thought of what he might have done wrong. Just a year before Detleev could have read entire maneuver commands by watching Nigun, yet now he failed to notice his superior's displeasure. If he could not even recognize his duty's neglect, then he was way past the discharge point.

Nigun had decided. This would be Detleev's last field mission. For the moment he would look past his Lieutenant mistake's in light of his previous exemplary service and leave him a good last day.

"We are minutes away from battle."

"So?"

Asked Detleef, like he felt it to be no big deal.

"So I hoped to pray with all of my brothers!"

Retorted Nigun angrily, but also with concern for his friend. Was he really fit to fight? If he entered battle detached, he could cause not only his death, but that of his comrades too. He had to make sure.

"Detleev, what is going on? Do you feel alright?"

Asked Nigun and hoped the lieutenant would come clean on his own. Detleev visibly tensed for a moment, before he loosened the mask that had been secured on his belt. Although the head gear of the Sunlight Scripture were not really cool or pretty looking, they resembled upside down cylinder hats with a non-transparent porthole, they counted, just like the Tome of Divination, among their most priced equipment.

They provided their wearers with a myriad of information like their physiological integrity, I.F.F., trajectory predictions and more, if the user possessed the experience to access them. Nigun himself was considered a masterful user and could link the feed and information-processing ability of his men thanks to his deep familiarity with the item.

But the Captain felt that Detleev had not taken hold of it for its utility. The Scripture's masks were also a source of strength for the team. Behind the them none would see the fear and anxiousness their still human hearts suffered, not even their comrades. Behind the mask they found fearless professionals and warriors to protect their back, so they would be able to finish their own mission, no matter the cost.

A childish trick, especially since everyone in the Scripture knew of it, and still it had yet to fail. Detleev clenched the fabric tighter with a humorless grin and finally deigned to properly address his superior officer.

"Sir, I am sorry for my misbehavior. I have matters to resolve at home. It does not belong her and won't happen again, captain. The mission will be all on my mind, I promise!"

Nigun believed him, or rather, he believed the battle lust he saw flashing in his friends eyes. He had fought many battles at Detleev's side, often as his subordinate, and had seen the eagerness to face the enemy filling the lieutenant before, but never as intense as today. Nigun wondered, if Detleev already suspected his coming retirement and was thus so motivated. If so it would hopefully be enough to carry him also this last day.

"Then that shall be enough for me. Get on your knee."

Accepted Nigun the apology and called to the men and women with a full and strong voice.

"Brothers! Our target, Gazef Strongoff, the Warrior Captain, will soon reach the village and our comrades in arms. Bend your knee and let us pray together, as the God of Fire taught us, so we will face the enemy with pure hearts and clear minds!"

Unlike all his soldiers Nigun did not went down on his knees to avert his gaze with a hand touching his forehead in contemplation. His gaze stayed fixed on the open field surrounding the village, as he started to recite.

"I will conquer what has never been conquered, defeat will not be my creed. I will believe where all those before me have doubted. I will always endeavor to uphold the the prestige, honor and respect of my Scripture. I have trained my mind and now my body will follow.

Who am I?"

The Sunlight Scripture answered with fervor in total unity.

"I am a Champion!"

Nigun continued.

"I will acknowledge the fact that I am an elite warrior, who arrived at the cutting edge of battle by any means necessary. I accept the fact the my team expects me to move further, faster and fight harder than our opponents. Never shall I fail my brothers. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong and morally straight. I will shoulder more than my share of the task, whatever it may be, one hundred percent and more because I have surrendered me for we.

Who am I?"

"I am a champion."

Answered the team.

"Gallantly will I show that I am a specially selected and well trained warrior. My heart and my soul will be the fuel to carry my body when my limbs are too weary. Although I may falter, I will never lose focus as long as there is hope in my mind and my heart is still beating. I will never give in to the evil that is weakness and I will fight that evil with my dying breath.

Who am I?"

"I am a Champion!"

"Energetically will I meet my enemies, many will challenge me, but none will stop me from my goal. I am not the strongest, I am not the fastest, I am good because I have found something worth fighting for, and I will fight with all my might. Surrender is not a champion's word. I will never leave a brother to fall at the hands of an enemy. And under no circumstances will I surrender, for my ears are deaf to the word can't.

Who am I?"

"I am a Champion!"

"Readily will I display the discipline and strength required to fight on to my objective, and I will complete my mission. I will rise when I have fallen to rip the heart from my enemy and leave it beating on the ground. My enemy will both fear and respect me. If he does not, I will make him respect me with all that I have to give.

"Who am I?"

"I AM CHAMPION!"

"History will remember my name but he does not have to be kind, for I have denied his criticisms and put in my own praise. Nobody will define me, and nobody will tell me what I can't achieve. None will say that I haven't given all that I have to give and none will take my glory. For those who have stood by me I will fight for, and for those who have deserted me I will crush.

Who am I?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"Who am I?!"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

"WHO AM I!?"

"I AM A CHAMPION!"

Finished and pumped up the Scripture rose as one and donned their masks, just as they saw a large group of riders appear on the plain from the west. They were too far away to distinguish the individual soldiers, but they were heading straight for the small village a good kilometer ahead on their path. Nigun had no doubt, it had to be Gazef Strongoff and his entourage, that rode perpendicular to Scriptures direct way to the settlement.

The Theocracy's soldiers should have been by now well dug in in the depopulated huts. Two of his men, Magelan and Fiora, had accompanied them to help them in preparing the ambush with ordinary and magical traps and hide effectively afterwards. I should give them enough time to hold out against the might of a legendary warrior like Gazef with acceptable losses, till the rest of the Scripture had surrounded them.

"Men, get ready!"

Ordered Nigun and could see his brothers tense. As soon as the Kingdom's troop would have entered the village, they would sprint over the plain. Normally an ambush and surrounding maneuver would have been suicidal against half a company on horses on an open field under Gazef's command, but Nigun had requested Scrolls of [Lesser Speed] after studying the Theocracy's maps of the land. Aided by the magic his men would need less than two minutes to reach the settlement and overwhelm Gazef with summoned servants of the gods, hopefully before he could bring his individual power to bear.

"Which one of them is Gazef?"

Asked Nigun, as they saw the riders spur on their mounts for the last kilometer. Jedos, still glued to his tome, as he had been during the prayer, answered crisply.

"The third rider from the front."

"What? That big fellow?"

Asked Detleev disbelievingly, as he pointed at the front of the force.

"Yes-"

Tried Jedos to confirm, but suddenly the massive rider fell from his horse. The rest of the kingdom's men all passed the now abandoned horse before they managed to stop. Nigun tried to make sense of the unexpected situations and turned to his intelligence officer.

"Jedos?"

"I have no idea what happened, Sir. Just one moment ago I still saw Strongoff secure in his saddle, the next he just dropped!"

Answered Jedos his own confusion betraying. Nigun himself had no idea, what could be going on over there and had reconsider their situation, before he made a mistake, that would cost his team.

"Hold!"

Ordered he as continued watching the Kingdom's troops. As all of the Scripture was as bewildered as him none spoke and they could faintly hear the riders shouts carry over the plain, though they could not discern the words spoken.

One of them separated from the bulk and dismounted to make his way to the spot the captain had fallen. He had almost reached him, when a dazzling lightning bolt shot down out of the blue sky on the form of the fallen hero and made everything else appear dark and gray compared to the blinding light it produced.

"Merciful gods above!"

Cursed Nigun way more refined than his men, as he tried to make sense of what was happening right before their eyes. The riders in the distance struggled with keeping their mounts under control after the lightning bolt panicked them, all the while the Scripture's captain frantically tried to think of the next steps.

In order to finish their mission of eliminating Gazef Strongoff they had also to secure his corpse, so he could not be brought back to live by revivification magic. Even if the Warrior Captain was indeed dead they would have to enter the field of battle and secure his body, but now the risk to the Scripture would be much diminished, opening the possibility to simply attack the individually far weaker entourage head on without suffering permanent losses.

Nigun was just about to order his men to attack, when a chilling high-pitched scream pierced the evening air. He followed Detleev's slack jawed line of sight and saw a long tailed winged monster dive down on the panicking riders, as they hurriedly spread out to avoid the claws of its grasping hind legs.

The men and women of the Sunlight Scripture could only watch speechlessly, as the beast claimed Gazef's corpse with a triumphant cry and carried him away past the treeline over the vast sea of green of the Great Forest of Tob. All that was left to Nigun was wondering in disbelief.

"...Holy shit..."

* * *

Author notes:

Nigun's prayer ' _I am a Champion_ ' was not born of my mind, but of the genius of coach Flowers, Leland High School JV football team.

And for those not speaking German a rough translation of Momonga's song, the first stanza of Friedrich Schiller's (1759 - 1805) 'An die Freude'

_'Joy, beautiful spark of Divinity, Daughter from Elysium,_

_We enter, drunk by fire, Heavenly One, thy sanctuary!_

_Your magic binds again what the sword of custom divided_

_Beggars become brothers of princes, where your gentle wing abides.'_


	4. The Dead

God is an Idiot

The last drops of blessed water trickled from the skin. The sweat, soot and blood on the man's face repelled the fluid, as soon as Nigun had sprinkled it. It had been the same for most of the 137 corpses spread between the stone houses and occasional storage building, but they had no time to properly prepare a funeral and grave for every dead villager. A short blessing ritual would have to make do.

"...let your body become ash and dirt once more, so you may enter Surshana's halls purified of earthly longings. Let the god of death's judgement be harsh, but fair, for that it is all a mortal could as for. Let your soul find its eternal peace it was denied in life. Hail Surshana."

Finished Nigun satisfied the last consecration and nodded to the Theocracy's soldiers, that had slaughtered those men and women, old people and young children, everyone in the village. Its name used to be Carne and it had been the 5th and last settlement in Re-Estize, they had massacred to bait one of the Re-Estize Kingdoms's strongest warriors.

Although, in the end, it had not been by their hand, their target was now most likely dead. Therefore no more need to continue slaughtering the Kindom's citizens existed and the soldiers in their blue tabards began throwing the dead into the houses.

Offering their pawn sacrifices this last respect had been not an option before, as the Theocracy's men were supposed to act in the guise of soldiers of the Baharuth Empire, Re-estize's rival and enemy in a war of attrition the Kingdom had been slowly losing.

For the past seven years the blue clothed professional soldiers of Baharuth, the Empire's knights, would invade the Kingdom at the start of the harvest season to face the levy soldiers of the kingdom.

While every knight was a trained professional the levies were basically peasants called off from their full fields and handed a weapon to die in their lords name. Only great numerical superiority could compensate the skill gap between the combatants and ensure a stalemate in the annual battles, but that was enough to ensure the long term victory of Baharuth. The missing work forces during the harvest season left the corn and vegetables rotting on the fields and drove the Kingdom closer to economical collapse with each passing year.

Using their uniforms to hide the Theocracy's involvement had been only sensible, but it also meant they had to act like money soldiers. Paying the dead respect or refraining from pillaging would have raised unwanted attention.

Now that their mission was full-filled the need to continue that charade of barbarism ceased and they could begin their track back to Slane.

"Make sure you have all of your equipment and gear on you, before you light up the village!"

Reminded Nigun the soldiers and his brothers. He knew from personal experience that even small details could betray the true story. He himself had snuffed out several times demi-humans and monsters trying to cover their attacks as cases of banditry by observing the details.

Details like a cheap dagger with a simplified banner of Baharuth on the pommel he had lodged into the chest of a dead woman, the few copper coins he had 'lost' outside the village or the dead burly man they had clad in one of the blue uniforms and left under a wall they collapsed over him and more, his team had thought of and prepared.

Even if the village burned completely down there would be enough evidence left to point at Re-estize's hated rival to the east, fueling the conflict and diverting attention from the work of the Slane Theocracy.

One by one the houses lit up behind them, as the forces of the Theocracy moved out of the village toward the eastern edge of the Great Forest of Tob. They would travel a few miles eastwards through the forest, before turning south, hopefully dissuading any trackers from following them far enough to deduce their real destination.

It was a dangerous maneuver, as the forest was untamed and unclaimed by any of the three great nations, Re-estize, Baharuth and Slane, that encircled it. No one knew how many people had fallen prey to the monstrous inhabitants, but it happened often enough, that the people in all three nations considered it a death sentence to walk alone into the heart of Tob.

Nigun was well aware of the risk, had even suffered casualties under his command to the forest before, but by now he had gotten used to it. He may have felt excitement, as they neared the trees, but no longer the dread he had felt the first time his then superior ordered him to move through it. He had learned to regard it as a calculated risk.

He also learned, that procrastination was a mortal enemy of duty and moved ahead in the track till he found Detleev.

The old man had kept behaving oddly after the Strongoff incident. He had forgotten standard mission procedures, when they started to prepare the village, could not remember the names of many of his comrades and needed instruction in the use of standard equipment like the mask. He did not even recognize Hilje, a warrior priestess, that had fought at his side for over 15 years, when she had thrown a friendly banter his way, as had been their custom for as long as Nigun had known them.

He could no longer justify Detleev's place in the Scripture and had to finally tell him the bad news. A firm grip on the shoulder let Detleev turn around and grin at Nigun's stern face.

"Captain?"

"Lieutenant, on a word..."

Said Nigun and implied with a small head shake to walk with him a few meters apart from the track.

"Is there a problem, Sir?"

Asked Detleev as he followed. Nigun had to think for moment to find the right words. He had no intention of hurting his comrade's feelings, but doubted he possessed the rhetorical skills to avoid bruising Detleev's pride. He decided to not sugar-coat the issue and just come clean.

"There won't be. Detleev, this is not easy for me to say, so I'll be blunt. Once we have reported back in Humanitas I will discharge you from the Scripture."

Detleev fell back wide eyed for a moment, while his captain kept his pace, before sprinting back to his side and asking.

"You are cutting me lose, Captain? Why? I have served faithfully for almost two decades in the Scripture and done so, I believe, with skill and integrity. I may have gotten older, but I am sure my experience and knowledge outstrip the slight loss in physical prowess..."

"That is exactly the point."

Cut in Nigun, before the veteran could talk himself into a self-justified conviction.

"They do not. Not anymore. Detleev, I have been keeping tabs on your performance for quite some time and unfortunately you no longer meet the standards I require of a member of the Scripture."

The disappointment in Detleev's face was plain to see and Nigun felt, he owed him a more detailed explanation.

"I am doing this now, because I consider you friend."

"A friend does not fire a friend out of the blue!"

Accused Detleev and Nigun answered angrily in kind.

"A friend doesn't watch his friend walk into his death!"

"That arrogance is so typical of you, boy!"

"Watch your tone, Lieutenant! Back down! That's an order!"

Reminded Nigun Detleev, shocked at the audacity of the officer, who used to be exemplary in his service up to this point. He could hardly believe the change in character. Had he underestimated the decay? Did he really think too highly of his observational skills? Clearly Detleev must have thought so, as he ignored Nigun's warning and countered.

"Why? What are you gonna do? Fire me?"

_Bind you in chains for insubordination? Kill you for abandoning your post and duty! Detleev, have you gone mad?_

Thought Nigun, but said.

"Detleev, you are not thinking straight. Consider what you are provoking, what you will force me to do, if you don't change your attitude!"

Defying a superior officer in the field was a capital crime in Slane. Every member of the Scripture knew this, understood the underlying reason, was aware of the punishment waiting for those breaking this rule. In the fight for mankind's survival everyone had to hold back personal feelings and instincts in the interest of the greater good. All recruits were indoctrinated and educated about the necessity of following their superior's order, even if it meant certain death, or the strength found in their unity would break.

But the veteran before him appeared to have forgotten those lessons and just got started, while the rest of the men began to watch the arguing officers.

"Oh I'm thinking straight. I am thinking you are a fucking boot licker concerned only about his career! Admit you are afraid the cardinals will pick me, when the question of the Scriptures leadership comes up again! You wouldn't hesitate one second to sacrifice the whole Scripture to save your own skin!"

"Because that is what our training and protocol taught us! Detleev-"

"Shut it, welp!"

Cut Detleev him off. Nigun could already hear and see the Scripture's members draw their weapons. He wanted to avoid spilling his own teams blood and quickly commanded them with a hand sign to hold off for now.

"For the last time, Detleev, I order you to stand down!"

Nigun heard a sickening crunch, before he registered the pain in his nose and tasted the blood running down his pharynx. Detleev loomed over him with bloody fist and a ring of weapons and readied spells around his neck.

"[Cure lesser Wounds]"

Heard Nigun Jedos chant and the pain quickly stopped, but he did not thank him. His angry attention was reserved only for Detleev who stared back just as furious.

"Sir?"

Asked one of the Scripture members. Nigun knew that he, like the rest of them, was waiting for the killing command. Detleev had become more than a severe liability, he had turned into a mad rebel. Simply telling his men to do it would have satisfied his immediate need, but Nigun knew, that it was the anger in him speaking. If he went with it he would forever have the blood of a sick man on his hands without any gain for mankind. Instead he ordered with forcefully restrained emotion.

"Take his weapon and mask, also the potions."

Detleev did not flinch or hinder the men. He just kept glaring, as Nigun rose from the ground.

"Deetlev Placius Bulmor,..."

Spoke Nigun low and slowly.

"By my right as Captain I strip you of your command and exile you from the Scripture and the Slane Theocracy! Return and pay with the life I have just gifted you. Esuan, Michel!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Answered two of his men with a sharp salute and awaited Nigun's order:

"Fetch Detleev's other belongings from the cart and hand him some water and rations at your own discretion. Then see to it he leaves."

The captain hoped Detleev would get the wink he should behave, if he hoped to survive the coming days. Reaching the next settlement without provisions could often be an effective death sentence all on its own and the geezer should have been aware of at least that. For now the pariah stayed calm, as all but Esuan and Miguel's weapons dropped. Detleev's icy stare he pointed at him, while he was lead away, crawled down Nigun's spine like a glacier. Still he willed down the inhibition to bid him farewell.

"Go, fool! Maybe one day the gods will see fit for you to understand the great mercy I have granted you today!"

Detleev simply snorted.

* * *

 

That Reek! That terrible, bowel wrenching, bile-raising, eye-watering, lip curling Reek! This nauseating sweet perfume, that assaulted the pharynx, that crept down the throat, while the body tried in vain to dry gag it out again.

The acid burned with the first cough and already a lump relentlessly crawled up. With a wet splat he birthed the mass of vomit and moaned in suffering.

He could not see anything. The world was pitch black and he wallowed in a bed of steel, tatters and wet flesh.

He cringed, when he hit his head on something hard and landed face in another squishy bed, that burbled under the impact. And the stench just would not fade.

In what hell had he been reborn into? Had the gods found him wanting and sent him to a horrible pit?  _Or was it still a worldly pit?_

Another retch left his lips dripping, but Nigun started to find focus.

He was alive, that was something at least in the dark mess, he had found himself in. A starting point to leave the maddening situation behind. He needed to accept the situation, if wanted to keep living, to escape the darkness.

Nigun vomited again. It would take some time.

_A little spark could help, fool._

Of course, he might have been blind, but that could easily be changed, if he used the [Ball of Light]-spell to ban the darkness. Nigun rose from the ground into a kneeling position and pointed with raised hand into the blackness.

"[Ball of Light]."

On hearing and concentrating on the code word he felt the spell trigger. For the nick of a second a glimps of divine formulas and shapes in unfathomable sequence filled his brain. They were the memories of the years he spent staring on the divine scriptures and trying to interpret in meditation a sand corn of the god's might.

A small glowing sphere appeared and blinded him a moment with its fluorescent light. He wished it would have needed longer to adjust to it, when he stared dry mouthed at the Sunlight Scripture. Those, that still could, looked back in frozen horror at their captain and their mutilated comrades. Everyone must had died by extreme violence, judged by the squashed, ripped, dismembered or half-melted cadavers, they had become.

The scream that threatened to escape the Captains lips stayed unspoken, as Nigun remembered.

He recalled, how they had left his then-to second-in-command Detleev behind and followed the road east into the Great Forest of Tob. After after a few miles, they had turned south and made camp in a small clearing, they used every few years to avoid attention from the residents of the forest. Later he he had briefly awoken to the screams of alarm.

That was, were the memory ended and he instead found himself here in a piled circle and on a bed of his dead comrades and entrusted soldiers.

_Concentrate! Nigun, concentrate!_

Nigun ignored the mounting horror by looking up and focusing on his designated task: surviving. He could not stay here. Here he would die, body and soul, so he had to get out of the pit. Thankfully the edge wasn't far from the dead. Nigun allowed himself a last time to vomit mostly slime, before he stalked just shy of trembling over the mass grave.

_Or maybe depository._

Jedos members lacking body gave away, as Nigun stepped on his shoulder to jump up the edge.

"Damn!"

Hissed Nigun as he failed and slid again down the steep slope, but he didn't curse, because his former scout fell over. He cursed at his realization, that he might be in the bowels of a demi-human camp, who knows where in the Great Forest of Tob. If so, calling his chances of survival slim would have been most generous.

Nigun took another try on Vicodamus' broad frame and successfully hauled his breast over the edge in an artificially expanded cave. He pulled himself completely out of the pit, before almost vomiting again. He was getting better.

_And now?_

_In a hostile environment: use a hostile tool._

Nigun found his sword missing, just like his knifes. Yet as he searched and touched his body for any wounds, he found none to his astonishing´. Instead he discovered several blunt shapes beneath his robes. His arrogant captors must have thought him dead and left him for later to plunder. Like some of Slane's traditional chocolate sweetness filled with small toys, that had beeb inspired by a favored dish of the gods. I was a customary gift to very young children in spring and the Theocracy found it an effective first siphoning of the nations blood pool of the weak and slow ever since it introduction 520 years ago.

And now his captors, whoever they might have been, were about to to choke on him. Thinking him dead they truly had only robbed him of his obvious weapons, but not the gear under his uniform. He still had his potions, scrolls, intel items besides the mask, and most importantly of all, he still had the gift of the cardinals.

The 'Sealing Crystal', that held a wonder of the gods. As he had obediently knelt before the cardinals and received the order to kill Gazef Strongoff, they had entrusted him with the legendary item to ensure his success. They had given him a national treasure, because they valued his life too much to risk against Gazef. It was only right he would use it now to flee this hell.

He grinned in grim satisfaction at the fist sized clear crystal that he had pulled forth. Whoever the enemies were, they were a substantial threat, if they they managed to almost destroy the Sunlight Scripture in one blow and needed to be dealt with and he was here, in probably their very heart, poised to eradicate them in one blow with a weapon, even the demon gods had feared.

As the thrown Crystal shattered it birth a white, awe inspiring giant. A fancy Halo substituted its head, while its metal and feather made robs were held floating in the air by six pure wings. In its hands it wielded a heavy scepter.

Without a doubt 'Dominion Authority', the angel of the highest order, would put any enemy in his place, that dared to provoke the Theocracy.

As with all summons he felt the telepathic link to the angel establish and its cool and clear intentions, hardly tainted by any emotion, swap over to him and lent him more strength to resist the terrible stench and think clearly despite the loss.

In turn it received his wish for it to protect him and help in slaying the masters of this place. The angel acknowledge his command and led the way out by the only tunnel, that wormed from the room. Like the cave he had awoken in its dimension were huge. Even Dominion Authority could hover in it with minor inconvenience. It confirmed his fear, that it were not humans or human-like races that attacked them. Digging a tunnel was a lot of work, there would be no point in making an over-sized utilitarian one, so in turn his enemies had to be large. The most obvious suspect that came to Nigun's mind was the so called 'Giant of the East', the leader of a troll tribe in the forest the Theocracy had tolerated for now, because of their stabilizing influence on the forest creatures.

As long as they did not venture out of the forest they would keep their actions to the forest, which meant pointed against the other demi-humans and monsters. But If they had now started to organize and even managed to overwhelm the Sunlight-Scripture in one swoop, than this was dire news. Those trolls could turn into the seed of a new demi-human nation right in the middle of the three great human states. And if it was not them, but a new foe...

That could turn out to be even worse. An enemy of such power, who could evade the Theocracy's scrutiny, was a formidable foe. How many painful wounds could it inflict on Slane before brought low and what other enemy would seize the moment?

_Going on unprotected would be unwise._

Nigun cast the standard protections of the scripture, [Limited Resistance] and [Divine Shield], and also cast a [Blessing] on them, but for now he refrained from more spells to conserve his magical strength for when he knew more about his enemies.

After just a few steps into the tunnel, the stench of death gave way to a new, just slightly less revolting aroma, but the spells and presence of Dominion Authority steadied him enough to suppress a new wave of nausea. It closely reminded him of a pigs stall mixed with a lot of bad cheese and cordled milk and made him almost sure of his suspicion and bafflement at how it could have come to be.

The angel and priest did not wander for long, before Nigun could hear a hectic rustle and chaotic grunting behind the wall of light the summoning in front of him emitted. The next second it rushed forward with breath-taking speed into the great hall, it had revealed and clobbered the first enemy into burning chunks of meat.

He was indeed facing trolls, 37 by his first quick counting, and even more ogres. Both were brutish creatures with low hanging arms and muscle coated bodies under their warty skins. The smaller Ogres, though this was still relative at standing upright just shy of three meters tall, had a thick carapace armor on their shoulder, while the larger Trolls could heal from nearly any damage source except for acid and fire and their long noses were among the most sensitive in the known world.

Unfortunately for them those fine olfactory organs, that put any dog nose to shame, were now filling with the smell of their brethrens cooking flesh, as Dominion Authority's scepter's swings crushed them not only easily with terrifying speed and stone splitting force, but also prevented the regeneration of the trolls with the fiery energy it was imbued with.

_One. Two. Three_

_Movement behind!_

Four, including the sneaky Ogre, that had tried to flank him. They fell in the time, it took to breath in and out once. The largest of the brutes, a troll with a tiger pelt for a loin cloth and a large beast skull on its shoulder, tried to reach for its iron club, but the angel was upon it befor even touching the metal. Six hits from its armored gauntlet hammered the trolls face into the roughly hewn stone throne, it sat upon, until only a crispy black stump remained of it. The troll quickly stopped twitching, while Dominion Authority was already upon its next victim

Nigun meanwhile evaded another Ogre, that lounged for him. The beast angrily started scrambling up again, when a tap on its shoulder made it look confused to its side. It found nothing, except the tunnel leading to the pit and flickering shadows telling the story of Dominion Authority stomping and burning its sibblings to death. It turned to the other side, where its tribe died and was hit by bursting glass with a foul smelling liquid.

Two eye-blinks, thirteen very quick heart beats and one very deep breath later the ogres yellow-milky eyes turned blood shot and foam began to drop from the corners of its mouth.

It had needed so much air to shout its newly discovered rage, as it charged its sibblings-turned-enemies, tearing down three other ogres and a confused troll, before the angel's wrath was upon them and committed them all to ash.

In only a few minutes all the giant-kin were smouldering in charcoaled pieces. Nigun watched the devastation wrought by his nations super weapon with a deep satisfaction. Not only had he brought down a sizable threat to man, it could also allow for forces of the Theocracy to enter this hole and retrieve his comrades. If brought back to Slane at least the relative intact bodies could be brought back to life. He was about to turn with some new found hope towards the only other tunnel exit he had seen so far, when he felt a slight tremble in the ground.

He deduced, a second group had to be nearing and sure enough, not even a minute later, another two dozen enemies, mostly ogres, came charging down the tunnel from somewhere above. They had barely set two steps in the hall, when Nigun shouted.

"[Searing Light]"

A tight beam of blinding light shot forth from the priest's hand and the third tier spell hit the leader of the charge right in the face. The troll's sensitive eyes, capable of seeing comfortably in even total darkness, were hit by light so intense, it burned the flesh from its skull. The beast stopped at once in its track, just before its comrades trampled and fell over it.

Nigun grinned wildly at the bellowing trolls and ogres, as the light dimmed from his outstretched arm. He was not concerned, that the already rising monsters would hurt him, for he felt his guardian angel move. Dominion Authority came down upon them with [Hammer of the Gods], like the instrument of divinity it was.

A blinding flash of golden light later the huge troll hall was silent again aside from the echos of dripping flesh, entrails and blood. While Dominion Authority had shielded Nigun with its body, most walls were now smeared with unrecognizable bits of meat and fluids producing an alltogether new stink. Nigun quickly order the angel the lead the way up.

All the way the stench stayed powerful enough, that Nigun could not have discovered a change in intensity to before, even if he had tried. They found no more enemies, but a few more side tunnels branching off from the apparent main artery. Dominion Authority's ability [Detect Evil] could find no more signs of life down them, so Nigun stuck to following the way up.

The angel floated silently in front and limited his vision to small bubble with the silvery light, it emitted. Nothing happened, no more screams, attacks or suprises, only the tedious tap of his boots getting lost in the darkness beyond his small sphere of satety.

He had no real feeling for how long they had been wandering. A few minute or a few hours would not have surprised him either, but finally the stink of demi-human and death became weaker.

_Almost there._

Thought Nigun, when he f a slight movement of air and commanded the summon to float faster. Dominion Authority accelerated just enough to stay ahead of its running master. He felt the end of his Odissey close, the air current became stronger. He thought he heard the sound of crickets and rustling leaves just beyond the silver light in front of him, then Dominion Authority turned into a quickly fading cloud of pale sparks and death stood between him and the star shined forest.

Captain Nigun Grid Luin had always thought of himself as an example of iron resolve and unwavering duty, but how could the power of one man compare to skeletal spectre, that towered now over him. It had destroyed Dominion Authority, an angel of the highest order in one casual act and now the two red pinpricks in its dark eye-holes were seizing him up.

Terrible thoughts filled his heads as the creature steamed with pure darkness and came closer in a leisurely gait, while Nigun's limps locked up. He saw the bloodied faces of his fallen comrades and soldiers. He remembered the screams and curses of all the blissfully ignorant innocents he had killed in the name of the greater good. He smelled the blood on his hands, he could never wash off and listened to the terrible deep voice, that spoke from beyond his eyes' veil of tears.

"Hello, Nigun. I've been waiting for you."


	5. The Master

God is an Idiot

Momonga was in a good mood. No. His mood was in fact excellent. He was ready to walk in the new day, that already warmed Tob's tree crowns to the east. His fingers playfully drummed on the grey, pristine fabric of his shoulder bag as the [Gate]-spell widened the wormhole back to the very door steps of Nazarick.

Nigun did not mind Momonga's nervous habit, just as he had not objected having his hand and feet bound by half a meter of magical rope. On the other hand the captain had not thanked him for cleaning him up either, which made them even in Momonga's mind.

While he entered the space-time shortcut he postponed the madness of questioning the implications for free will yet again for later. He diverted his fear by wondering, if Captain Luin's passing out should enter his moral equations.

True, the man might have already been in a strained mental state and, maybe, he had overestimated him, when he had tried to initiate friendly contact on even terms, eye to eye.

The idiot had passed out. Since could not ask him for his opinion right there, at the troll den' entrance, he reasoned he should act in the captain's 'best interest' and took him with him. Momonga was still faithful his guest would be forthcoming to his questions, softening him up for his recruiting. And if the captain would not act rationally, as Momonga hoped, he could still conscript by brute force, though the End hoped to avoid such crude and ovious methods.

The white event horizon crossed his vision and he walked again on Nazarick's ground, already forward into the darkness of the central large temple, where Albedo waited. She was the reason for his fantastical mood, for she had called, just before he tried to speak with Nigun, and told him, she had finished the siphoning of Nazarick for traitors.

Two days ago he would have scoffed at anyone even hinting at the chance, his task could have been finished thoroughly in barely a day. But here, with characters of his friends' and his imagination come to life, where him had become a powerful sorcerer, where Nazarick had turned into reality, he could believe such a deed possible, even probable.

The inside of the building was quiet, besides the odd drip of water he maybe heard, maybe not. Albedo's alluring voice alone echoed from the dark corners, as she half bowed.

"Welcome back, Lord Momonga."

Momonga kept walking till he stopped before Albedo with an offered palm.

"Hello, Albedo."

He gave a slight nod to his hand and she placed her's in it with a smug smile, a fist on her hip and a straight back. He still dwarfed her, but he noted her effort on his behalf, while he stripped the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown from her finger.

Momonga's gaze stayed glued to the ring as it slipped down his bones again. Once it rested, he sensed the inherent magic's shadow spread and envelop him in its fractal ideas, before they quickly paled, but never completely so.

He wondered about a similarity he recalled from the [Teleportation]-spell, when a new voice, also female, but higher and younger than Albedo's, broke his concentration.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha ha ha...ha "

The laughter belonged to the pale girl with the platinum hair, whom walked up the stair to the second floor without making a sound. Her amusement had ebbed with the last step, as she glided in her dark purple victorian dress with a voluminous skirt to a respectful distance at Momonga's side and bowed.

"Greetings, Lord Momonga, another  _ _mere servant__ welcomes back the master of Ainz Ooal Gown."

It had been a long time, since he saw the guardian of the first to third floor in person, but Momonga still remembered Shalltear's Yggdrasil profile by heart. When the guild had almost died out the extremely powerful guardian remained as one of Nazarick's formidable defenses, but also as a weak point. Her status as an undead might have normally granted her immunity to mind altering effects, but Momonga himself knew four ways to circumvent that protection and turn her against her creators. He never dismissed the chance another had found a fifth.

In his mind Momonga had played through countless battles over the years, against not only Shalltear, but all of Nazarick's Guardians. The thoughts had been hard to avoid, since it had been one of his own favored tactics to turn guardians against their guilds. He felt no guilt for dreaming about various ways of attacking her. Momonga knew well enough, how the thought had been inspired and also considered in between the rage fantasies the real situation at hand. Albedo had told him Nazarick was safe for his return and he should consider the little vampire, appearing no older than fourteen years, no threat.

So why did the girl smirk a bit more each time, Albedo's eye had a nervous twitch? The fallen angel looked pale and a bit out of herself, but still attentive of the newcomer. Golden orbs bore into bloody mirrors, an ugly half smile challenged the arrogant smirk and Momonga kept comparing the merits of intervening to observing.

He respected Albedo's free will too much to stop her speaking.

"Go back to your assigned post, Shalltear."

Short, blunt, but a bit rude in Momonga's opinion. Shalltear held on to her succulent civility and answered, with a charming smile for him.

"Please, you can't blame a lady for stealing a sneak peak at the thrilling form of our glorious leader. Just looking at him makes me..."

Shalltear stared wide eyed at Momonga and left the sentence unfinished. For a brief moment it was silent again, except for another wet drip.

"The Guardian Overseer can. Get lost, leech."

Informed her Albedo icily. She had regained control of her facial muscle, but wore her aversion openly, certainly more theatrical than intended. Or so Momonga told himself, as he actively willed his feet to stay in place and not step back. Shalltear in turn made no attempt to hide her annoyance at diverting her attention from Momonga to the angel.

"Only when the fat virgin nerd is not busy sucking bananas."

Shalltear had lost her sweet note and Albedo joined in the vicious cycle.

"While you lick your damp thrall dolls. You are clearly out of options."

"Better than never having been an option."

"Skinny eternal tadpole."

"Stinking Ape!"

"Lamprey!"

Momonga saw the shadow of the arcane form over the women and concluded he should intervene, so he snapped his fingers.

They stopped at once. Albedo returned to a stiff and serious stance, while Shalltear turned back to him.

The vampiress composed herself with an embarrassed huff and warmly beamed at him again with thin eyes. He felt a shudder in his spine, when he watched the bloodsucker's long, but thin tongue moisten her lips, while blinking at him. It was high time to change the setting.

Momonga raised his free hand and said.

"Hi."

He promptly turned to Albedo and asked the baffled woman with a hand on her back.

"Your place?"

She corrected.

"No, it's your place, but yes. Please."

And they were gone in a flash. They left Shalltear deserted, now with a nervous twitch of her own. She turned for the stairs with a frustrated growl, when her high heel slipped in a shallow puddle.

* * *

Momonga and Albedo appeared, where they had left a day ago, at the portal leading into the heart of Nazarick. His hand let go of her back to trail the outer surface of the door.

On the other side the granite had been carved into beautiful scenes. Here his claws scratched over a dark glass, but it was not uniform beneath the surface. Frozen streams, bubbles and colors waited to be discovered by an observant mind. It took not much of his fantasy to dream new meaning into the obscure shapes and for a moment, he felt like cloud gazing.

But he could play later with insanity and addressed Albedo, whom appeared much calmer and relaxed than just seconds ago. She even wore the same smile again, she had when welcoming him.

"You said you found and confined the traitors in the throne room. Why? Wouldn't have the Frozen Prison on the 5th floor been better suited?"

"No, my Lord."

Said Albedo, apparently amused at a joke, only she got. Ainz stepped out of the way, when she reached for the portal's handles and pushed open the massive stone wings, like they had been made of cardboard.

"Had I done so, I would have no traitor left to present you. He could not survive such a cold."

"He?"

Asked Momonga, as followed her in. She threw him a teasing smirk over the shoulder and kept on walking, instead of answering. He was about to ask again, when he saw an addition to the room. In front of the  _Throne of Kings_  stood a new pedestal, reaching the height of his waist. On it waited a golden bird cage.

Albedo took position next to it, as Momonga finished the last steps to the captive. It was a Rockhopper penguin, that winked its flipper unconcerned and greeted.

"Good day, Lord Momonga. Eclair Ecleir Eicler, at your service."

_Is this a joke?_

He turned to Albedo for a clue to the hidden meaning of the set up, but her proud stance and unperturbed smile offered him nothing. The little birdman in the cage was a creation of his comrade Ankoro Mocchi Mochi, one of the only three female guild members. In contrast to Albedo, Shalltear and the other floor guardians he was not a max-level character. Eclair Ecleir Eicler was just a level one NPC, an assistant butler created with an unquenchable thirst to rule the Great Tomb of Nazarick one day.

The bird was a gag character and Momonga was uncertain how to treat it. He had been aware of its existence, but due to the NPC's low strength had never bothered much with it.

_But now..._

_He might be weak, but he got a dangerous new ability in this world. He can talk._

"Albedo,"

Asked Momonga.

"Is there no one else you want to show me?"

She shook her head.

"No, my Lord. Every other servant of Nazarick has passed my loyalty screening. He is the only traitor, I found."

Momonga skeptically looked back at the midget, that had crossed its flippers and faced his skull with steel in his own red eye balls. The End leaned closer to the cage, but the traitor did not back off and also moved closer in turn to whisper behind a flipper.

"In all honesty, Lord Momonga, I like you. You seem like a talented boy. I might have use for you, once I have claimed dominion of Nazarick, as my creator intended. Surrender now and I even might make you my right flipper."

Momonga turned back to Albedo, while the penguin spoke on.

"You see, I have you right where I wanted you to be, just as planned."

She still beamed at him and pointed with a hand and a nod back to the still speaking bird.

"Everything will belong to me. From Nazarick's throne I will shape this world as I desire! The other guardians will praise me with the same awe they reserve for the supreme beings, the Pleiades Maids will worship and clean the very ground I treat and all of Nazarick will bow to my awesome-"

'POW!'

In an instant Momonga's fist had hammered down on the golden cage and deformed it into a flat wire sun , with bits of meat and feathers stuck between it.

Momonga shook off the mess from his hand, while the sprayed blood already flowed off his robes without leaving one stain.

"Next?"

"Next,"

Answered Albedo and moved to guide him out, this time with her hand to his back.

"We will meet the loyal servants in the arena on the Sixth Floor. Do not worry, my Lord. The next time you will enter here, the mess will be already cleaned up."

_Must be due to the height difference, that her hand is resting on my bony ass, but does her grip have to be so firm? I thought I was gentler. And if everyone is gathered in the arena, who will defend-?_

"You also do not have to worry about our safety. I left behind a skeleton crew on the outer levels, including Shalltear, of course, that Demiurge also deemed adequate. Everything is taken care of."

Momonga recalled Demiurge as the floor guardian of the hellish seventh floor, going by the limited pieces of background he remembered of the Defense Commander of Nazarick. His creator Ulbert Alain Odle had introduced him to the guild as a diabolical mastermind and sadist.

His comrade had been an attention whore in Momonga's mind, but a loyal one. Behind the purposely villainous act Ulbert had proven to be one of the most reliable guild members, who often enough set back his own interests for the guild. That was also, why Momonga had looked past the chuunibyo's eccentrics, but the devil-NPC had him concerned. If he turned out to be a wish fulfillment of Ulbert, a culmination of everything Nazarick's 'Most evil Member' wanted to play out, then Momonga could have an insidious time bomb right in the middle of his home.

But Albedo looked at ease in her brief look up. He saw no distress or care as she led him out.

Maybe Demiurge would turn out to be a pleasant chap. For know the End would let things just happen, aware of the futility of panicking, when out of intelligence.

"Is there a specific place in the Arena, you want me to bring us?"

Asked Momonga, as they passed the still open doors.

"The center of the VIP balcony would be perfect, my Lord."

* * *

Momonga did, as she had bidden him and brought them in a large tent of dark luxurious fabric and his personal symbol on every plane. A magical lamp on the ceiling, a stocked desk and three comfortable looking stools compromised the rooms only furniture.

"Nazarick's guards await outside, my Lord."

Pointed Albedo to the way out, but he had already moved for the desk.

"Do you want to use notes? I can assist, if you would like me to."

"Oh, don't bother. It's just a small info for our guest."

Said Momonga, before letting the rope, and the man with it, slip from his shoulder. He wrote a short letter and placed it under a little red potion bottle in front of Nigun's face on the ground.

It read.

_"Hello, Captain Luin,_

_This is a healing potion. Drink it._

_I will be back shortly. Relax in the meantime. Here you are safe._

_Your friend"_

He dissolved the bindings on him and looked back to discover a new face peeking through the exit. Apart from the peaked cap its most noticeable feature was that it had none. The pale gray head was smooth apart from three identical indentations. Their shadows mimicked eyes and a mouth, yet nothing on it moved, when it spoke with a sharp and rapid male voice.

"Mein Gebieter, ihr seid hier!"/ _my lord, you are here!_

Momonga's own NPC creation, Pandora's Actor, had found them. Unbidden Popped up a fantasy in Momonga's head of the End sitting opposite a bearded man in white robes. He had a long list of complains in it and he actually dreaded, what P.A. in turn would confront him with.

He winked for the NPC to come in and P.A. obeyed in two efficient strides through the curtain. He had the standard humanoid appearance of the Greater-Doppelgänger race: tall and thin, with long limbs that filled a yellow military uniform 200 years out of time. The heavy coat, that hung over his shoulders, whipped dramatically, as he snapped his heels and saluted for Momonga.

"Melde gehorsamst: Alle Truppen wurden versammelt! Das Volk erwartet eure Weisheit, mein Schoepfer!"/ _reporting obediently: all troops have been assembled! the people await your wisdom, my creator!_

_Somehow I can understand, what he is saying, just like the humans and trolls, but it sounds so angry and harsh! Still, I have to mind myself. I couldn't know, he would come to life and he can't be faulted for me writing into his background he speaks german. Still..._

_What have I been thinking when designing him? I guess Ulbert and I had more in common than I thought._

"Darf ich noch hinzufuegen welch große Ehre es für mich ist Sie zu sprechen?"/ _might i add how honored i am by speaking with you?_

Momonga raised his hand and P.A. paused babbling.

"Hello, Pandora's Actor, I am also pleased to meet you, but now is just a bad time. Maybe later?"

He felt bad for flipping off his creation so fast, but for the moment he had to solidify his control over Nazarick. There would be time to talk and indulge P.A.'s curiosity later. That is, if everything worked out, as he hoped. The Doppelgänger may have lacked facial expressions, but the sacking shoulders and back were unmistakable. Before Momonga could stop himself, he added.

"I'm sure, we will find time to get to know each other."

"Na- Natuerlich, mein Herr. Ich verstehe."/ _o-of course, my lord. i understand_

Said P.A. with a stiff bow and remained at attention near the exit. Albedo may have payed attention to the brief exchange, but did not comment, as she moved past her master out into the arena and signaled him to follow.

_No turning back now._

Momonga also walked to the exit. He was about to push the fabric aside, when he looked once more at his creation, whom waited with its hands on its back. P.A. did not look back, but Momonga saw him stiffen up under the attention.

Everything that defined the Doppelgänger was because Momonga had willed it. He had chosen his skills and levels, wrote his background and designed his appearance. In a way P.A. was the closest Momonga had to a child, but he had no family experience of his own to draw from.

Suzuki Satoru, Momonga's former existence, had lost both parents, when he had yet to learn about the existence of pubic hairs. Most of the youth he remembered, he had not been much more than a number in the state orphanage, he had been sent to. He had never learned, how parents should behave or how unconditional love felt, yet now, deep inside, beyond logic and rationality, he felt a compulsion to do something, anything.

But what? Should he have offered a handshake or hugged him? Momonga did not know, what he was supposed to say, what P.A. would have liked to hear. Embarrassed he released the guardian from his scrutiny. After a moment of hesitation he wordlessly patted P.A.'s shoulder and left the tent without feeling better at all.

Momonga's skull broke the heavy curtain and a wall of murmurs, shouts and other noises replaced the awkward silence. For a moment he stared aghast at the lectern and the ranks behind it.

The Arena, the center of the sixth floor's great forest and home of the floor guardians Aura Bella Fiora and Mare Bello Fiore, waited under an eternal clear night sky. Shaped like an eastern crown lost by a titan it impressed by sheer size alone .

The memories, of how a pack of 80 middle- to max-level player hunted him over the empty ranks two days ago, were still livid. He recalled the fear and stress in him when defending all, he held dear for just one more day, how lonely he felt, when standing alone in the vast tomb against the Hundreds united in hatred, while all his friends had left.

Now he almost wished for the solitude.

The Arena was filled to the brim. Ten Thousands of skeletal and other undead minions awaited him in full gear on the ranks and, sprinkled between them, Hundreds of other exotic to nightmarish creatures joined in the drumming of weapons and shields.

'THUMP!'

'THUMP!'

'THUMP!'

'THUMP!'

It was the heart beat of a beast, he feared would devour him, if it did not like, what he said. His metaphorical guts clenched at the prospect. He had never spoken for a larger audience than his office team or the guild, let alone Thousands of monsters.

"My Lord, Nazarick is waiting for you."

Hissed Albedo next to the lectern.

Momonga moved stiffly to her side and looked around in a futile bid for more time. Even the seats behind them had no room to spare and below, on the sand of the arena proper, waited the main reason for his nervousness:

The Floor Guardians, spearheaded by the arch-devil Demiurge, and behind them the Pleiades Six Stars under the leadership of Nazarick's head butler Sebas Tian.

While both were designed with the appearances of gentlemen, they embodied opposed ideas. Sebas was a bearded old man in the body of god with features chiseled from granite. He was the creation of the guild's duel champion, Touch Me. Like him he was a close quarter combat specialist, but he fought bare handed. At one point rumor made the round in the guild, the NPC's face was in fact modeled after Touch Me's real one. He led the six combat maids of the Pleiades, each a beautiful woman of a different flavor, that were in truth heteromorphic monsters like Sebas, the Dragonoid.

In a Dungeon filled by generally evil monsters he stood out, as one of the few creatures intended to be inherently noble and good.

Demiurge was the dark mirror of the black clad butler.

The devil with the pointed ears and swept back hair wore an orange suit that fitted his slim form perfectly. Ulbert had introduced him to guild as subtle and cunning sadist. the End worried what the guardian was thinking behind his spectacles, as he focused on Momonga with a self-assured smirk and a wriggling metallic tail.

"Say something, Lord Momonga."

Whispered Albedo without looking to him, while P.A. moved to his other flank.

_Say something? What am I supposed to say. Why has she called all of Nazarick here in the first place? Damn it, am I about to screw up my new life on the first day?_

_Okay, the woman has maneuvered me into this mess, so she can also stir me out again._

_[Message] "Albedo?"_

_" Yes, Lord?"_

Responded she at once without showing any outward sign of the conversation.

_" Why did you gather Nazarick here? You said you found only one traitor."_

_" I did."_

_" So what am I supposed to do here? What was your idea?"_

Wanted Momonga to know.

 _"_ _To rally the loyalty of Nazarick's defenders behind you, naturally, Lord Momonga. Please raise your hand."_

_He did so and the noise stopped. All eyes were set on him as the Arena held its breath._

_" Rally their loyalty? How many guardians exactly declared their ultimate fealty to me?"_

_" Two."_

_Two? TWO!?_

_" Pandora's Actor and me, of course, Lord Momonga."_

He could not help himself but stare slack-jarred at the smiling and winking angel.

 _"_ __Lord, your subjects are waiting."_ _

Urged Albedo, but he couldn't bring himself to talk.

_" Please, Lord, you should say something."_

_I can't! I have nothing!_

_" Lord Momonga."_

_I am no leader! I was the guild's moderator, guild master only in name!_

_" My Lord!"_

_I can't even offer them gold. Restoring the tomb and reviving the NPCs bankrupted us!_

"Loyal defenders of Nazarick!"

Reached out Albedo's voice to the last ranks.

"We are stranded in new world, cast adrift on a foreign sea with no land in sight and only alien stars to guide us. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, our home, has been ripped from Helheim and hurled to a place, none of us ever heard from."

She paused and the audience held its breath, until she continued quieter.

"Our creators, the supreme beings, invested me as your overseer and yet I can not imagine shouldering the responsibility of Nazarick's leadership, when so much is uncertain and still unfathomable.

But perhaps I do not have to. Maybe there is another among us, we can place our trust to lead us in.

What about you, Cocytus? You are Nazarick's greatest swordsman. Can your strength guarantee our safety?"

The largest of the present floor guardians, an upright walking beetle with an ice crystal tipped tail crossed its four arms. White plumes drifted with every syllable from his mandibles, when he answered.

"No. I. would. be. the. wrong. choice. Guardian. Overseer."

"And you, Aura and Mare? Would you take the burden and lead us?"

The two blonde dark elven children, who sat cross-legged at Cocytus feet, looked at each other with mirrored hetero-chromatic eyes of blue and green. They wore each unique white dresses over their dragon scale leather armor, blue for the one wearing a short skirt and knee socks and red for the one in the pantsuit, yet it was a saucy girl's voice that answered, when the latter jumped up.

"No way! I don't want that kind of responsibility and Mare is just plain unsuited."

"Hey!"

Protested her brother weakly, but made no other attempt to correct his sister, so Albedo turned to the devil at the front with a sympathetic smile.

"Demiurge, I envy you. At least you will persevere long after us, thanks to your cunning."

Momonga saw his previously self-assured smile harden as Albedo spoke on.

"With the only mind possibly rivaling the supreme beings themselves..."

And the gears finally began to grind in Momonga's head as the Chief of Defenses exploded.

"STOP! - stop, ...please."

He allowed himself a deep breath, before continuing.

"You overestimate me, Albedo, as recent history just established. I am still an infinity away from the wisdom of a Supreme One. Please never suggest such a likening again."

"As you wish, my friend."

Said Albedo without joy and a light bow.

_" Look at me, my Lord."_

When it was his turn, she strained to hold his dark stare. Her lips trembled slightly, while she rubbed her elbow, before speaking in a whisper, he was sure, carried even to the last corner.

"My Lord, we all have failed, but I beg of you: please reconsider and stay with us!"

The Arena sighed horrified, while the wet-eyed angel send him.

_" Complain, now!"_

"But I am so tired!"

Shouted at last the End and the audience quit down again.

Momonga spoke lower.

"I am so terribly tired. I long to follow my comrades. After an eternity of fighting alone I don't know, if I have the strength to continue on.

I have no supreme being left to trust in, either."

"Please trust us one last time and we will help you shoulder the burden!"

Begged Albedo with streaming tears and reached for his hand.

_" Evade me."_

Momonga winked her off and pointed at P.A. instead, while looking at the crowd.

"How could I trust you too stand in the place of Warrior Takemikazuchi, Bukubukuchagama or Master Touch Me?"

P.A.'s form bubbled and changed into a hellish samurai, a mad nightmare of flesh and teeth, a shining silver knight and more monstrous forms. Momonga watched for a moment the imitation of his old friends and then said.

"We had an unshakable trust into death and beyond. We were strong and made Nazarick stronger, because I had their absolute loyalty.

_Far from it. I'm pretty sure Lucif#er hated me guts._

_" You are doing great, Lord Momonga."_

Albedo sunk limp to her knees, but her words glowed with conviction and a glimmer of hope.

"And if I swore you my eternal loyalty? Even beyond my own creator? Would you then stay?"

He barely looked at her, when he scoffed.

"You are but one."

"But I would swear such an oath, too!"

It was Demiurge, who had dared answering the bait. Momonga looked slowly at the devil and then scratched his temple like in thought. Before he even had to say more, Sebas bowed and the twins and Cocytus followed.

"I would gladly swear you my loyalty, Lord Momonga."

"We think it's a fat win for us, right Mare?"

"Yeah, ehm, kindah. It sounds very nice, actually."

"I. would. be. honored. to. offer. my. life. Lord.

The crowed also joined in oaths and pleads and Momonga let them squirm for minutes, before he finally had mercy. He silenced them with a hand raise and said.

"You shame me with your heart felled devotions. If I can trust in your absolute loyalty-"

"YOU CAN!"

Shouted the Arena as one.

"-then I could endure countless ages in Nazarick."

Joy and laughter spread though the ranks at hearing those words. Even the skeletal Old Guards playfully poked each other in relief and Momonga had to calm them down again.

"It is much I am asking of you, so I feel, it is only just, I offer those, who want to hold on to their old bonds an alternative. You may leave with my blessing to search for your creator beyond Nazarick."

Ten meters above the floor guardians opened a wide wormhole to a dark place as Momonga spoke.

"[Gate]!"

And cast silently beyond.

_[Delayed - Reality Slash], [Delayed- Cry of the Banshee], [Delayed – Fireball], [Persistent – Curse of Years]..._

Momonga gave them ample time to chose as he scanned the ranks, noted how every face, that could still express, was filled with hope and gratitude. None of them moved a hair's breadth, in the literal sense. They would be his.

He dismissed the [Gate] and the other spells again and helped up Albedo, whom took her place at his side with a shy blush.

_" Excellently done, my Lord. We should end the spell."_

Albedo canceled the [Message]-spell on her side. He had a notion, she also meant the act and agreed. Momonga spread his arms to his people and let them bask him in jubilations.

They clapped hands, stomped feet, clicked claws, crashed weapons, howled, grunted, rattled, joked, cried, sung, prayed and quit down for a last time, as he slowly lowered his hands.

"We have made a choice for each other and for ever.

I thank you, for you gave me new faith into the Great Tomb of Nazararick.

And now I ask you to return to your posts. I need time to ponder our future."

Albedo moved for the tent's entrance, while he waved a last time. He also offered P.A. a handshake, he accepted after a moment of suprise. When Momonga felt the enexpected strong grip of the Doppelgaenger, he gently pulled him closer to whisper.

"Good reaction. I appreciate the attentiveness."

"Danke, Herr."/ _thank you, lord_

The masses slowly abandoned the ranks, while he led P.A. with a gentle pad into the tent, the only guardian, whom didn't break his vows.

* * *

The curtain vanished behind Doppelgaenger and End.

Albedo already sat cross-legged at the table. While they also took seats, she said with a wolfish grin.

"You two did great, especially you, of course, Lord Momonga."

_Of course. You bitch set me up and just pushed me out of the nest!_

"I must admit, I had my doubts in the beginning. I am sorry. You really did not need my notes."

_Say what?_

"Notes?"

Questioned Momonga. Albedo rattled the few papers on the desk in response. Momonga had just torn of a small piece off for the short letter he wrote. He decided feeling stupid for his oversight would be in-appropriate after just high-jacking the heart of a monster army.

"Oh, those. Right, nevermind."

The weak groan coming from their feet spared Momonga from more of Albedo's doubting stare. Nigun had woken up. The three monsters listened for a while to the man's rasp and senseless whispers, until Momonga had enough and rolled him over with shove of his foot.

The captain looked pale and dried-out. The irritated eyes barely opened and the End doubted their unimpeded consciousness. It was uncomfortable, like holding your breath, but he suppressed his aura for the sake of the man, as he picked him and the potion up.

Momonga held the priest like an over-sized baby and fed him the red bottle like one. Meanwhile Albedo and P.A. moved closer, to watch the wrecked human turn healthy and fresh again.

The empty bottle came off with a little 'Plop' and Nigun's eyes blinked a few times, before wandering wide open from Momonga to P.A. and finally to Albedo.

"Er mag Sie, meine Liebe. Sehen Sie, wie der mit dem Schwanz wackelt."/ _he must like you, my dear. look how he's wiggling his tail._


	6. The Idiot

God is an Idiot

"What, do you think, happens now?"

Asked the bass voice.

"I do not know. I answered all your questions, so I will die, not?"

Answered Nigun. His words sounded calm and at peace, but the nightmare on the other side of the simple wooden table fanned all kinds of feelings in his chest. Unease, fascination, naked fear, but certainly not calm and peace.

How could it have done otherwise? It was a powerful lich, an undead, a nemesis to all that lived and instead of doing all in its terrible might to kill him, it chatted. It had pulled up a seat in the rich tent, he had found himself in, and just chatted with him.

"Kill you?"

"Of course. I won't tell you any military secrets and I am trained to resist torture. You won't get any information out of me I am not willing to share."

A brazen lie. Nigun knew from personal experience that sooner or later everyone broke. Given enough time even heroes succumbed to torture and he had no illusions he would fare better in the end. Maybe the undead thought the same, when it placed a finger on its chin. Or maybe its face just itched. Nigun could barely read the body language of his opposite, let alone the flesh stripped skull. The red glowing pinprick in its eye sockets where his only tenuous connection to the thoughts of the monster.

Four years of learning human and demi-human psychology proved useless against the perfect poker of a skeleton's skull. Nigun was not ready, but expected anything, when the finger dropped from the chin again.

"Captain Luin, why would I do such a thing?"

_Why indeed. You are an undead monster, maybe more civilized and cunning than most, but you stay a monster._

"You hate the living."

Nigun saw no point in elaborating the obvious. The skeleton did.

"Since when?"

"Since you rose from your grave."

He did not like the game it was playing with him. Was this perhaps the beginning of his torture? A little cat and mouse tease to give him an idea of his host's true nature? Would he be already stewing in his own sweat, once it started for real?

It sighed, despite not having taken a breath in the entire exchange so far, and then said.

"My good captain, let me set some things straight for you. First, I don't hate the living. I may not be technically alive, but I still employ several living. Most of my lieutenants are alive, in fact.

Second. I have no wish to harm you, Captain Luin."

Nigun considered his snort answer enough. His host did not seem to mind the offense and spoke on.

"I gave you two healing potions, did I not?"

"A dead man can not talk."

"Like such a nuisance would stop me."

Waved off the skeleton his comment, like it was no big deal, but to the Captain it was. If the monster spoke true and resurrection magic was nothing special to it, than what other powers did it command? If. Maybe it was just a lie to impress him and soften him up further. It had to have limits to its power, if it bothered speaking with him. On the other hand it had effortlessly destroyed "Dominion Authority", one of the Theocracy's strongest weapons, allegedly in self-defense, so those limits could be so far beyond his own scope, they might as well not exist. Nigun would indulge it for now and said.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Let's not find out."

Said it and...

"No."

Agreed Nigun to the almost warm words. He had to be careful. The undead was surprisingly charming. It acted not like a time-lost beast from of a dusty catacomb. It talked like the next best guy on Slane's streets. It was a trick, it had to be, but for now he would play along and amuse it, so he asked.

"Two potions? I remember only one."

"You got a little bit, let's say excited, after we fed you the first bottle and one of my servants hand slipped."

"I can not remember that, so I will have to trust you on that one."

"I would have been surprised, if you did."

Said it and Nigun thought he heard mirth in the words. Maybe now was a good time to fish for information himself. He would dare a demand..

"I told you my name and rank."

"And not much else."

"Right, but I did, nonetheless, so I think it would be only civil, if you did the same."

A bold move on his part, but risks were unavoidable to a man in his position: Alone and in the dark of his location, his host and intended fate. His heart raced, as he dared the red pinpricks to answer, while he felt cold sweat run down his temple. Its hand moved and for a split second he thought, he gambled to high.

But the hand stopped in offering over the middle of the table and it said.

"I am Ainz Ooal Gown."

Nigun looked only warily at the offered bones, till Ainz let them drop again. It drummed a few seconds on the tables wood, before it said.

"I see you don't trust me, Captain. I can certainly understand your reservations, but please, try to see it from my point of view. I have to think of my and my servants safety. Surely you, as a commander of men, understand the need to keep you in the dark, at least for the moment."

"Then you will also understand, I can not disclose information."

"Of course!"

Agreed Ainz.

"And that it is a good thing. You see, you and I, ..."

It pointed at Nigun and itself, while speaking so.

"We are finally forming a connection. We are both in the same uncomfortable situation. Our duties and consciousness require us to hold back, what the other wants to hear. A stand off.

"Hardly, when I do not even have a blade."

"We both know, that is not true, Captain. Even without a sword you are far from harmless."

"Then you should let me go, if you acknowledge the danger I pose."

Said Nigun and knew, of course, that Ainz would not follow up on his suggestion. He doubted himself he posed a threat to the undead, but it still felt good to fire something back. To his surprise Ainz nodded and said.

"Oh, I fully intend to do so."

"Preferably not as a shambling corpse."

"What kind of monster do you take me for?"

Asked Ainz. Nigun could not tell, if the resonating indignation was real or not, but he did not care for comity. Apparantly Ainz did, when it said.

"Captain, I promise you, I won't harm you."

"You promise?"

"My word is my bond."

Said Ainz with a hand to its chest.

Nigun felt torn. The one promising his safety was an undead, after all, the antithesis of life. There was no reason, it should feel any sympathy for his species, but still it acted cordially so far. In fact it had not threatened him once. A small hope grew in him, despite knowing better, and he asked.

"So I can leave?"

"Soon, Captain Luin, but please give me at least the chance to be a good host. Would you like to have some tea?"

Said Ainz and Nigun's eyes almost plopped, when it promptly fished up a steaming porcelain teapot from under the table.

"No, thank you. I do not feel thirsty."

Said Nigun stiffly, but his host was not dissuated. Ainz let the teapot vanish again under the table and instead produced a carafe with a sun yellow and fruity smelling liquid.

"Some orange juice, then?"

Nigun had no idea what 'oranges' were and did not want to find out, despite the enticing smell. When he shook his head Ainz removed the carafe quickly and placed a condensation covered glass of beer on the table.

"And how about a fresh pilsner?"

"No."

Declined Nigun and Ainz simply went on placing and removing delicious smelling drinks and foods.

"A glass of wine?"

"No."

"Sparkling Water?"

"No."

"A tender steak?"

"No, I am not hungry."

"A bowel of stew?"

"No, like I-"

"A broiler?"

"I said-"

"Or some vegetable soup?"

"I am not-"

"Have some cake."

"-hungry!"

"Not even a lemon drop?"

Asked Ainz, while it offered yellow candy in a particolored metal can. It sounded almost sad.

"No, thank you. I am not in the mood for any drink and food. Have I made myself clear?"

Nigun slowly lost his last shreds of calm under Ainz pestering. Why did it not understand he would not accept any of its offerings. Was it some kind of idiot? And how did it hide all those foods in its pockets without spilling anything in the first place?

"You are making it very hard for me to be a good host, you know?"

Said Ainz and scratched again its temple, a very human gesture in Nigun's mind. The thing did not match any of the captain's expectations. Although he had only ever fought mindless members of its kind, he had also read in the Theocracy's archives about the few intelligent undead, mankind had encountered.

Each and everyone had been driven by the need to eradicate the living, given the slightest chance, not offer them frigging candy. Perhaps the gods had not abandoned him yet and he had stumbled indeed upon the sole intelligent walking dead too dumb to follow its instincts.

"You are my jailor, not my host."

"Can't I be both?"

Offered Ainz, before snipping its fingers.

"Now I get it. You don't need sustenance, you crave companionship. I can introduce you to some lovely ladies, if you'd like."

"I have no interest in your women!"

Snapped Nigun back. Never before had he met such an irritating monster. Even the blue pygmies, the Scripture rounded up last year, did not strain his patience as much, as Ainz did.

"My bad. I'm sorry. I should have considered that you are a man of faith. But fret not, I'm sure I can find you a cute boy-"

"NO!"

Yelled Nigun and knocked over the table.

"No, gods damn it! I DON'T want a boy, you sick moron, stop pestering me! I am a happily married man!"

"You are? But I thought you are a priest."

Asked Ainz and Nigun would have liked nothing more, than to bash in its grinning skull for such a stupid question. What did being a priest have to do with his marital status? How stupid and ignorant could that empty head be?

"Yes I am!"

"I find that hard to believe. You are not lying to me, are you, Captain?"

Foubted Ainz with crossed fingers and legs and no discernible anger.

"Her name is Dana!"

"Sure..."

"Everyone in third district knows her! Don't you dare to call in question my love!"

"Sorry, she must be very special to you."

"She is-"

The justification got stuck in his throat, as a terrible realization hit Nigun. The ignorant, the idiot was him. In his arrogance towards Ainz he carelessly let his feelings run free and made a terrible mistake. He was certain Ainz would have grinned, even if it had not been a skeleton.

He heard his heart pound and felt dizzy, when he looked at the clean spot, where before the table stood. Where had all the food, he rejected, gone? If it had been a conjuration of Ainz, why did he never hear him activate a spell? Conjuration magic was common enough, but it could only make simple and pure substances, like salt, water or sugar, not an entire prepared meal. Nigun had suspected his host was exceptionally powerful, but he must had grossly underestimated him.

With leaden steps he reset the knocked over furniture and sat down.

"You look pale, Captain. Do you feel alright? Perhaps it is really for the best, if you leave. I can find my way to your place to continue our conversation later."

Echoed Ainz words like from a distant place. Nigun's mouth felt dry, as his consciousness looked left and right to his oath to the state and his oath to his love.

"I... I will be fine, Lord Gown. Just a sore throat."

Ainz shoved a fresh glass of beer over the table, which Nigun held on to with both hands, like it was the last water in the world. It tasted wonderful, fresher and better balanced than any beer, he ever sipped from in his life.

He set down the empty glass and wiped the residual foam from his lip, all the while Ainz waited patiently. Nigun was damned, with no right choice left. All he could do now, was act in the best interest of those he held dear.

"You had questions, my Lord?"

* * *

"We all have."

Heard he Ainz bass resound.

Nigun sat no longer in a tent, but in a large room covered in white marble. Black columns supported the dome ceiling over the wide round table, he found before him. A foreign symbol dominated its center and 41 luxurious chairs, his included, encircled it.

__What happened? How did the room change all of the sudden? And who are those two?_ _

Ainz on the other side of the table, fifteen meters across, was no longer alone. To its left sat a handsome elf with back swept hair in a precious looking orange suit. He regarded Nigun behind his mirrored glasses with a pleasant smirk, that stickied Nigun's skin with sweat. Nigun had met many horrors during his service to Slane, but his instincts told him, that the elf eclipsed them all.

For a moment he hoped the divine beauty with the black wings to Ainz right could be an angel, come to save him. He felt his trousers tighten, while he mentally traced the perfect curves of her white dress. Nigun could almost feel the big breasts under the spider web necklace in his hands. Had this nightmare turned into a wet dream?

The cold stare of her cat-like golden eyes drained at once all attraction from him and he finally noticed the ram like horns, that broke through her thick black hair. She was no heavenly harbinger, just another monster of Ainz's menagerie, maybe even more dangerous than the elf.

"Who are you people?"

_And where have I ended up?_

Wanted Nigun to know. They had casually dispatched one of the Theocracy's most powerful weapons, they commanded supernatural powers, he never heard of before and he suspected, despite Ainz having claimed otherwise, had killed the Sunlight Scripture in one swoop.

Could they be gods? Had Surshana, the god of death, returned from the underworld or was he already dead and facing his final judgement? If so, why had it killed its loyal subjects and kept company of a knife-ear? The Scripture had always served faithfully, had it not?

"Be silent, pest. You will only speak, when asked to do so."

Said the woman. Her tone was cold and contemptuous, yet he still wanted to hear more of her sweet voice.

"O-"

Nigun wanted to say 'of course', but thought better of it and only nodded. He was in no position to argue with his captors and Ainz seemed to think the same, as it let her reprimand him without complain, before it asked in turn.

"What do you think?"

Was that sarcasm, a rhetorical question? Ainz's blank face offered him no hints, so he answered truthfully.

"Gods, Lord Gown."

Nigun could not hear, what poison the damn elf whispered in response to Ainz or imagine, what made the beauty's eyes soften. Had his assumption amused them or was it cruel anticipation of his sentence? His lot was to wait and nervously drum his fingers on his knees, while they discussed his answer.

Both newcomers seemed to try persuade Ainz of their own opinion, but the skeleton's red pinpricks remained locked on him, till it silenced them with a rising hand and said.

"You may call us so, if only because your sanity would be the first prize for learning the details of our nature."

It sounded as pleased with his guess as the elf looked, but Nigun couldn't fathom, why it made her frown. How could his answer have offended her? There was no higher praise than to be called a god, was there?

The elf drew from his jacket a notebook and pen and continued speaking in his master's stead.

"What gods do you revere, human?"

His words were melodious, soft and dripping with unspoken malice, but Nigun swallowed his dislike, even tried to sound polite. There had to be a reason, why Ainz trusted the creature and he would not offend it by showing his aversion.

"Every righteous man or woman prays to the Six Great Gods.

Alah Alaf, the God of Life,

Fuji Salfer, the God of Fire,

Kamohoalii, the God of Water,

Yalla Himi, the God of Wind,

Plutonios, the God of Earth, and finally

Surshana, the God of Death."

Had his answer pleased them? All he saw was the elf scribbling down far more words than he had used. Most likely he also noted his body language and expressions, maybe even the tone of his voice. Nigun would have done so in the elf's stead.

The Great Gods taught mankind much of its current knowledge, including secrets it would have taken Hundreds of generations to discover on its own, if at all. Psychology was one of their most precious gifts. The ability to read human and intelligent monster alike without the use of magic had saved countless soldiers of the Theocracy, although few recruits grasped the lore's real value, when taught the first time.

Today, his empathy had deserted him.

"Have you ever seen your gods?"

Asked Ainz.

"No."

"Then how do you know they are real?"

Was this another potential test? Why would it doubt the history, it could find in every decent chronology of the Theocracy or other nation? Anyway, he would recount it, if it kept his host happy.

"Because they saved mankind from destruction and founded the Slane Theocracy."

Ainz did not comment and signaled him with a hand wave to speak on, so Nigun would continue retelling history, till they had tired of it.

"About 600 years ago mankind was on the brink of annihilation. Monsters and demi-humans threatened to wipe the last remnants of man off the world, while the callous Dragon Lords sat by and did nothing. Then the Six Great Gods descended from the divine realm and stood up for us. With their unparalleled power they held back the nightmares, that feasted on us and taught us the means to fight back on our own. The Tier Magic was perhaps their greatest gift, but they showed us so much more. Architecture, forging, agriculture, the written word... In the span of a few generations they established a mighty culture, where before existed little more than lose tribes, that lived in huts and used only stones, wood and bones for tool making."

The elf dutifully noted everything, no doubt churning with envy behind his arrogant smirk at the favor, the gods had shown mankind instead of his own race. Nigun did not recognize the elf's people, but his instincts kept telling him, that the demi-human was extremely dangerous and capable of horrible acts, Nigun could not even imagine. There was a good chance, that having to note down man's blessings was Lord Gown's poetic punishment for the knife-ear's crimes.

"Today Slane counts among the mightiest known nations. Who, but the gods, could have raised mankind from the bottom of the food chain to close to the top?"

For a second he thought he heard the woman and elf chortle, but looking at them they still appeared as before. Nigun focused his attention back at Ainz, whom waited with cross-fingers.

"They-"

"Where are they now?"

Interrupted him Ainz once more.

"Pardon me, my Lord?"

"Where... are... they... now?"

_It... It doesn't know? Why doesn't it know, if it is really a god?_

"They passed away. In their love for mankind they had taken human avatars to walk this world and like all men and women, theirs was only a limited time. Only Surshana took the immortal form of an undead, but he fell 500 years ago, when he fought a last time for us against the terrible Greed Kings."

"So you are once more defenseless."

Said the woman. Nigun shook his head without looking away from Ainz.

"No. The other gods left us their unbelievable powerful artifacts and they blessed us with their descendants, the god-kin."

"God-kin?"

Asked the elf and Nigun was almost glad, he asked for details of another prove, how mankind had been favored by the divine instead of the scribe's race.

"God-kin inherited some of the god's blood. It is thicker in some than in others, but each one can wield powers beyond even the mightiest human heroes."

_Although I am not sure even one of them could have dispatched a Dominion Authority so casually. No need to tell them that, though._

"They have the strength to triumph against monsters even adamantite adventurers, the very pinnacle of mankind's potential, could never best. As far as I know, only the Dragon Lords could possibly equal them."

"How many God-kin are there? Do other Nations have access to their services?"

Asked he again for his master. Nigun would have liked nothing more than to rile 'Wouldn't you like to know?', but he thought better, than to follow his petty need and answered.

"As far as I know -it is highly classified - not many and they are all loyal to Slane only."

"Then we should extend our care to the other human nations, don't you agree? Meanwhile, I will make my own impression of the Theocracy."

Said Ainz. Nigun could not discern, if it was talking to him or its advisors. Neither thought pleased him and despite the woman's reminder to not speak unasked he blurted out.

"Then you should take me with you as your guide!"

* * *

"Agreed."

Nigun was suddenly sitting under a cloudy sky and staring at the back of a heavy set black horse, that almost whipped him with its tail. The round table and the marble room, wherever they had been in the first place, were gone. Men and women toiled in the distance on the green-golden grain fields to his right, past the poplar trees, that lined the plastered road.

_What? How did it...? Just what kind of power is this?_

A four wheel wagon creaked under him as he shifted and stared incredulously to his left. An expensive looking black-lacquered armor held the horse's reins. A rich red mantle hung from its shoulder and Nigun wondered for a moment, who hid behind the all-enclosing helmet, before he saw a red pinprick light up between the view slot.

An iron grip pressed his shoulder, and him with it, down into the seat, before he could jump off the wagon.

"Sit, Captain."

Spoke Ainz's voice from under the helm and Nigun had to accept, that his nightmare was not over.

"You won't bail on me, won't you?"

"No, Lord Gown."

Said Nigun and stopped the futile struggle against the undead's unnatural strength. Resistance was pointless, so long as he was under its scrutiny. He would have to bid his time.

Maybe he could make a move and contact the Theocracy's leadership, once they reached Humanitas, for where else could they have been heading? It had to be planning to enter Slane's capitel incognito, although he did not understand yet, why it did not chose a less attention drawing form.

If Ainz suspected him of treason, it gave off no sign of it or maybe, and the idea frightened him, did not care.

"Call me Momon, while I am wearing the armor."

"Momon. Momon Who? Please pardon me for asking, but you cut an intimidating shape. People are bound to ask."

Ainz nodded.

"That's right. So what do you suggest, my good captain?" Who could have saved your life, after the troll lair?"

"Anyone will raise suspicion, Lord Gown. If you are interesting enough the Theocracy will trace your steps. You should not count on simply posing as a foreigner."

"Pah"

Complained Ainz, while he handed him the reins and leaned back

"So you figured out the problem in my plan."

"Perhaps you should earn some good will by acting openly. The cardinals would certainly be willing to introduce you to our fair nation, Lord Gown"

"And omit many of its most interesting sights?"

Mocked Ainz with an accusing finger.

"No, that's not an option. But what do you think about plan B ?"

The undead lifted the helmet.

Despite all the monster had done to him, the murder of his comrades, the manipulations, the plain disregard for his existence as a person with another idea for his fate...

He could not help but smirk in recognition of the bold devil, that hid behind Gazef Stronoff's friendly grin.


	7. The Boor

God is an Idiot

_"I'm having a lesson in 'Slane'."_

_"That sounds lovely, Lord Momonga. I reckon, you are having fun?"_

Answered Albedo in his head via his [Message]-spell. He contemplated the cast shaker between the beer cups on the sturdy long table. He knew, that the two dices under it showed a four and a three or 43. Barn Omo Sef, short Barn, the owner of the tavern, had called a 41 when placing the shaker.

Momonga's gaze shifted from the frozen wiry old man across from him to the next in turn of the drinking game, the equally still soldier he (Barn) had a shouting match with. Private Sill Am Umi was a blonde and athletic young man, who had barely scrapped twenty years. He had call Barn a liar, so he would lose.

_"I am making fun of it."_

The the black armored hand of Gazef Stronoff, the identity he had taken, reached for the shaker and changed the 43 into an 33. He saw no need to encourage the private to drink more, but the old man could prove to be gold mine of information, once he loosened up.

_"Please, pardon me, Lord Momonga, but I do not follow."_

_"I am playing a game of dice with the locals, Albedo."_

_"...You consider this a petting zoo."_

_"Exactly."_

_"Did no one teach you to not play in the mud?"_

Asked his second in command, but when he looked at the dozens of time frozen people, that surrounded their table, he saw not one shit stain. There were a few young soldiers in their light blue loose uniforms among them, but most were middle-aged to old humans in well made clothing and good health. The rustic tavern, they sat in, may have been simple, but it sported running drinking water, magical lighting and heating.

Their life seemed adequate.

_" It's not that bad. Maybe not the quality of life I could have in Nazarick, but it's still quite enjoyable. You just have to bear a few awkward moments to acquire the taste."_

Send Momonga back, while he filled up the small cup meant for the round's loser with more of the dark red wine brand, the Slane enjoyed, besides their pilsner like beer.

The crowd, that pressed from all sides on the table, already seemed to have had enough of it. Their faces glowed red from alcohol, laughter and anger. The open round of the dicing game, he had introduced the locals to, had become the center of the evening. The Slane may have had comfortable homes, but they still preferred to gather after work and enjoy more than one or two cups.

So far the folk of Theocracy proved to be a quite worldly people. He almost felt inclined to shoo away the milf material from priest Leif So Ha's lap and ask on the God of Life's opinion on the matter. Alas, he rose with the almost empty wine brand bottle and gracefully wound through the people and various unsavory objects stuck in the air, despite the plate armor he wore. He felt like having passed a laser trigger course, when he finally reached the bar and found a fresh bottle.

_" What were you doing?"_

Added Momonga, while he emptied half the liquor into the sink, so it equaled the previous bottle, before he had frozen time.

_" I was reviewing item requests, balancing chances and risks versus reality and our meager resources. Nothing special, but thank you for asking. Pandora's Actor sends his regards."_

_" Sounds tedious. Thank you, really, for taking that off me."_

Commented Momonga and felt it, as he made his way back.

_" Please think nothing of it, my Lord. "_

_" But for now I do. Do you never have feelings like 'that ought to be enough!' or 'I'd rather do this or that instead, now.' ?"_

Asked he. He had resumed his previous position on the table, resting on his elbows with a beer cup in one fist.

_" It is not the place of a servant to complain. I cherish the trust you place in me."_

_Must all of the guardians be so polite?_

When Momonga had been still Suzuki Satoru, he had never been so curteous to his superiors, not even during his probation in the engineering office. Maybe it had just fallen out of favor in the 22 nd  century, when people realized they were stuck in their social castes, they were born into, anyway. Why bother with pleasantries, when you were sure it wouldn't lead to any advantage or disadvantage anyway, as long as you fulfilled your role?

 _"_ _Okay, but what would you do, if there was no supreme being to cater to? What would you do then?"_

_" See the world burn, my Lord."_

_Ouch. Sounds like a spurned lover. Maybe a different angle._

_" Naturally, Albedo, but try imagine the following situation, just in theory. There are no supreme ones left, but it is no reason to be angry or sad-"_

_" How could I not be sad without a supreme being to serve?"_

_" Because they are now at a better place, thanks to your efforts."_

_Far from it._

_" But why would I ever make the supreme ones leave?"_

Asked Albedo and Momonga noticed, he had started drumming his fingers. Was the concept really so alien to her?

_" Because they asked you to and you would not deny a supreme one, do you?"_

_" No. I live to serve."_

_" And they told you to live a happy life."_

_I hope that will be incentive enough. Why can the guardians finish ridiculous problems in breakneck speed, but cannot cope with such simple ideas?_

_" I am sorry, Lord Momonga. The thought of the last creator leaving is just to terrible. I could never life a happy life without you."_

_DAMN IT!_

_"_ _It's just a theoretical scenario."_

_" It is an impossible scenario, not worth thinking about."_

_Pointed Albedo out._

_I give up. I'll just ask straight._

_" Forget it, Albedo. All I wanted to know is what you do in your free time."_

_" I have no free time. I use every moment to serve you, my Lord."_

_" And if there are no more tasks left? What do you do then?"_

_" I am thinking of new ways to serve you."_

_" You have already served me perfectly. There is nothing left to do."_

_" There is always something do."_

_Screw this, its is going nowhere. Her work ethics are just too ridiculous high._

_" We'll let the matter rest for now, since we are clearly talking at cross-purposes."_

_" I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Momonga,..."_

_I am too._

_" ...but maybe I will understand another time, if you could show me."_

_Show her, eh? That actually not so bad an idea._

Perhaps he would jump on that train later, when he had got a good grasp of the workings of this world. Baiting other possible Players into the open could take time, most likely more than he would need to do meaningful work. Now, that he no longer needed to eat, sleep or catch his breath, since he became an undead, he would at least need to stave of boredom.

_" I'll keep that in mind. For now, do not work too hard, you are doing good. I speak with you later."_

_" Thank you, my Lord. I will be waiting."_

_[End Message]_

Momonga canceled the spell and checked a last time his position and appearance. Cup in hand, elbows on the table, the right eye lid slightly hanging. He was ready.

_[End Time-Stop]_

At once the laughter and noise of the tavern returned - "That's never a 41, Barn!", "Sure it is!", "You have no grasp of probability.", "Did somebody order a pint?", "Shut it, know-it-all!", "I have to go, now!", "Beer after wine, that is fine, but wine after beer leads to a trouser smear."

Momonga, of course, focused on the tavern owner and soldier across from him. Barn's grin gradually widened, as he reached for the shaker, while Leif nervously followed his movement.

"Haha!"

Laughed the old man triumphant into Leif's face as he raised it, but instead of rewarding him with an expression of defeat, Leif began to grin himself and laughed back.

"Ha!"

"What? How did- I knew I saw a four!"

Blurted Barn, as he looked at the table, where the two dices showed each a three or 33. Leif already offered him the loser's cup, which he accepted, eyes still hanging on the cubes. He hesitated a moment, when he brought it to its lips.

"Why is the cup so full? I filled it myself."

"Just drink up."

Encouraged Momonga, as he leaned over the table and pushed up the cup's base. Barn whisked him away, but kept drinking, till he crashed the cup on the table and retched. Momonga wasted no time and dutifully filled up again

"You must be going senile, geezer."

Teased Leif, while he cast the shaker again. He took a sneak peak under it, before offering.

"21."

"I believe you."

Said the woman next in line and shook the shaker, without looking under it, before offering.

"31!"

The game went on and 'Gazef Stronoff' proved again his uncanny luck, or rather Momonga's mastery of [Time-Stop], in avoiding the loser's cup. When it circled back to Barn, the old man excused himself and handed the shaker Leif, before returning to the bar. Momonga also rose from the table and followed.

Sitting down on one of the lonely bar stools he asked.

"What's the matter, Barn? Old age catching up with you?"

"Sh- Shut up."

Barked Barn back and scratched incredulously his temple at the sight of the small bottle pile in the corner.

"How much did we drink...?"

"You. I didn't get one drop, yet. I guess, I am just too good at my own game."

Corrected Momonga him.

"Hnn"

Grunted Barn as he tossed the first dirty cups in the sink and opened the faucet.

"You were really good at it, almost too good, Gazef."

"Are you suspecting me of cheating?"

Challenged Momonga, which provoked a snort from the red noses man behind the counter.

"Right, no point in a drinking game you generously paid a silver shilling for in advance. Sorry, for the implication. That was rude of me."

"You can make it up by handing me beer and entertaining me with a good story."

Said Momonga with a smirk and a pointed look at the barrel behind Barn, who understood and filled him a fresh one.

"Don't know, what you're expecting, Gazef, but I am just a tavern keeper, not one of you hero or adventurer types. There isn't much to tell. I was born here, in Braesla, did my tour, met my wife during it and afterwards opened up my business with the money, earned during my service to the state. Not much more to tell. End of story."

Barn shrugged with his shoulder at his own life's path.

"I am a boring model citizen."

Momonga took a big gulp of his beer, letting it vanish in his inventory, and made a point of sighing in delight, before saying.

"Boring to you, but it is still new to me. This poor fugitive wants to know more of his new home. So please tell me in more detail, what kind of life my future sons and daughters would live here."

"Didn't the captain-"

"He's still understandably reserved about me."

"Hnn, if that is so, I am not sure I should tell you."

"I am not asking for any secrets or exact places. Just the general points. My leave of the Re-Estize Kingdom wasn't exactly planned long in advance, so I had no time to read up on it."

Barn stared for a moment with clouded eyes at him, studied carefully 'Gazef's' face, before finally giving in.

"Okay, I guess a few pointers really can't hurt.

First, son or daughter doesn't really matter. We in Slane take pride in using the talents of every citizen, not matter the sex. That might sound strange for a foreigner, but that has always been the way in Slane. Only the man's family name is generally adopted by his wife, but it is tradition in many family to leave the right of choosing the firstborn's name to the mother."

"Does the equality include political power?"

"Of course. We have had many men in up to and including the highest ranks of Theocracy. Five of the six current cardinals are men, an unprecedented number in our history, so you see, we take equality serious."

Said Barn with a proud hammering of his chest.

_And here I thought he would boast about their first female mayor. Guess I am the bigot._

"Fascinating. And what does Slane expect of its citizens?"

"You mean, what will the Theocracy expect of you."

"Yes."

Admitted Momonga. Barn thought hard, his wine-brand addled head had to, before answering.

"I am not sure. I never met a turncoat before, so I can't tell you, how they will treat your missing tour. That is, if the government does not simply terminate you, just to stay on the safe side."

_Terminate me to stay on the safe side? Good to know, but who tells that someone straight in their face?_

"Ehm, they don't really do that, do they? You are making fun of me, right?"

"I sure don't."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"No."

"But what if they make a mistake and execute someone innocent, 'just to stay on the safe side?'"

Asked Momonga and mimicked quotation marks with his fingers. Barn neither looked amused, nor offended by his remark and shrugged it off.

"That happened and will happen again. We are all human, after all."

"I bet you wouldn't say that, if you were to be evaluated. Then it would be an outrageous tragedy."

Said Momonga, while he shoved the now empty cup over to Barn.

"I would. My Instructors in Humanitas educated me well. Our state does not attempt to hide such sacrifices for the greater good. A good citizen bows his head and accepts his fate as another service to the people. Who knows? Maybe I a danger to the state and don't even know it? What then? Magic and monster can do terrible things."

_They have no concept of individual rights. So refreshing._

_And handy._

Barn filled him another cup, while Momonga mused.

"Seems like I can only hope to make a good first impression. Who knows, maybe I could just catch up on my tour."

Barn snorted at this, while he put a fresh cup in front of Momonga.

"You are about 20 years to old to start your tour."

_Say again?_

"How old do you think I am, old man?"

"Thirty? Thirty-five?"

"Yes..."

_I guess._

"See, far too old."

"Hold on a moment."

Said Momonga and put down the cup again, he had led to his mouth.

"When did you do your tour?"

"When I was twelve of course, as is customary."

"I didn't know the Theocracy uses child soldiers."

"Of course, it doesn't. Child soldiers are only effective against other humans. We had no need for them for centuries. No, I spent the first half of my tour in Humanitas, where I got most of my education, before I entered military service at age 18."

"So the 'tour' is more than just battle training. Wasn't it hard to leave behind your loved ones and friends?"

Barn's gaze turned distant for a moment, before he answered with a fond smile.

"Yes, I missed my mom and dad a lot, but most of my friends came with me, or followed soon, a great relief at the beginning."

"It must have been a taxing time."

"Often it was, we had very strict tutors, but they were good men and women, and it wasn't like I was the only one, who had to go through it. Every child goes to Humanitas to become a proper citizen and learn in time the great fortune, that has been bestowed upon it by being born in a Slane. Gazef, I see it in your eyes, you doubt me, but most Slane cherish their tour's memories. Oh, just thinking of all the friends I met there makes my old pump stutter."

_Institutionalized brain-washing..._

Thought Momonga, but simply indicated Barn with a raised brow to speak on, while he drank. Barn admitted.

"Okay, not just friends, also girls."

"Like your later wife Saim."

"Yes, although she wasn't my first girlfriend. That was sweet Acta."

"I can hear a sad note."

"Was I so obvious?"

"You sad 'sweet'..."

"Oh..."

Sighed Barn and Momonga could see his eye's corners glisten, so he asked softer.

"What happened? Did you break up in bad fight, you regret?"

"No, we were perfect together, or so we thought, but the Theocracy knew better. It found a trend for nearsightedness in her family line and forbid the union."

"And what became of her?"

"She got sterilized and last I heard, she served in a nun order of the God of Life. Can't remember their name, only that they have their abbey somewhere south-west of Humanitas. It's been over thirty years since last I talked to her, mind you."

_Eugenic programs..._

"I am sorry."

"Don't be, Saim is a wonderful woman in her own right and we are happy."

"But she's no Acta."

"...No."

Momonga was about to put a sympathetic hand on Barn's shoulder, when he felt one grip his own.

"Stronoff, we have company."

It was the scarred face of Nigun, that had disturb their conversation and it looked with worry to the new guests, that entered the tavern. One by one they rushed in, obviously glad to leave behind the cold spray rain outside and set down their large backpacks. Momonga could see a similar uniform to the captain's under one of their traveling coats, though it sported dark purple accents, and understood Nigun's agitation.

While Barn stumbled over to greet the newcomers, Momonga padded the empty stool to his side and leaned closer, once Nigun had sat down.

"Enlighten me, Captain. Another Scripture?"

"Because of the uniforms? No, there is no Scripture that bears purple colors, unless..."

Nigun peeked again to the strangers, five in total now, four men and a woman, as they handed Barn their wet coats. They wore indeed Scripture uniforms with purple accents and were each heavily armed with swords, axes and, no doubt, more concealed blades.

"Who are y-"

Mumbled Nigun when he saw a flash of gold and blue under the last man's coat, the one with the large bundle hanging from his shoulder. He hastily turned Momonga back to the counter and hissed.

"They are serves of Black Scripture. The man in the fine armor, you saw him?"

"The one with the slicked back blonde hair?"

"That's Screaming Blade, Sixth Seat of the Black Scripture, one of the strongest humans in the world."

"What's a lonely Scripture member doing here? I thought you guys like to gang bang."

Asked Momonga, as he leaned forward and plucked three fresh cups and another wine brand bottle from Barn's reserves. He filled one for Nigun, one for himself and the last, as he heard a rhythmic "ching" behind them. He toasted to Nigun, when he added.

"Hopefully he didn't suffer the same misfortune as you, Captain."

Nigun's nose wings flared and pupils dilated at the comment, but despite the pumping veins on his temples, the Captain answered calmly.

"That is unlikely. The Black Scripture members usually travel and work alone.

Their strength is unrivaled."

__That remains to be tested._ _

"So they are the Theocracy's elite."

"They are  _mankind's_ elite."

"My bad. They are mankind's  _elite."_

Chuckled Momonga, while he brought the cup to his lips, but Nigun stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

"I mean it. Do not do something stupid, we will regret, Stronoff!"

Momonga felt no pain from the Captain's strong hand. He had no hope of even scratching the End, but his hold still annoyed him and with a cold glare at the offending limb Momonga said.

"Heed your own advice, Captain."

Nigun turned chalk white, when he realized his faux pax and let go. The "ching" came closer and Momonga sipped once from the cup, before a man's voice, calm and not yet ravaged by age, behind him asked.

"Warrior Captain Gazef Stronoff?"

Momonga and Nigun turned and looked at the Sixth Seat, his serves a little behind him. Now, without the coat, they could clearly see the exquisitely made full-plate armor, that had been lacquered in blue and gold. Momonga suspected a freakish large weapon in the slung over bundle, but could see no other weapon on the young man.

"Hi there, just Gazef Stronoff, if you please. The Warrior Captain is dead."

Greeted back Momonga with an offered hand, but the Sixth Seat ignored it and instead pointed at Nigun.

"Captain Luin? What are you doing here and where is the rest of the Sunlight Scripture?"

_[Message] "Easy now, Captain"_

Send Momonga quickly, without breaking the friendly smile he had put up. Nigun hesitated only a moment, before answering.

"They are still in the Great Forest of Tob."

"Then why are you-"

"They are dead, brother."

Interrupted Nigun him and the Sixth Seat lowered the accusing finger.

"I am on my way back to Humanitas. I- We need to recover their bodies and start the rebuilding of the Sunlight Scripture."

"How could you lose an entire Scripture, Captain?"

"A suprise attack while we made camp. I do not know, how they passed our wards. I got knocked out in the beginning and awoke in a troll ladder, surrounded by my dead comrades. I guess I only live, because of my amulet of protection and the sealing crystal the cardinals entrusted me with, of course."

Recounted Nigun and held up the gold and silver chain with the dull blue stone, that he normally kept hidden under his robes.

"I see, but how does the Warrior Captain fit into this?"

Said the Sixth Seat and briefly glanced to Momonga.

"I's no longer-"

"I wasn't talking to you, foreigner."

Interrupted he Momonga without looking. His brown eyes kept drilling into Nigun's, daring him to make a mistake, but the captain held his calm.

"We were sent to kill the Warrior Captain, that's why we traveled through Tob to the southern kingdom in the first place."

"Then why are you drinking buddies, now?"

"BECAUSE,"

Said Momonga louder, so the Black Scripture member would finally pay him attention.

"I am no longer the Warrior Captain. I called in some favors and faked my own death."

Screaming Blade glanced briefly at Momonga, before Nigun said.

"We were convinced, too. You would not believe me, if I told you, what we saw. Just accept for now that I was as surprised as him, when we met in the forest, later. Without him I would not have survived the backtrack through Tob."

"You would be already three times dead, if not for me."

"And you are dead! To your people, I mean."

Shot Nigun back. The Sixth Seat closed his eyes and scratched his chin, while he thought about their story, before his arm shot up again and he growled.

"I do not know the truth, but I know one thing. You are not telling it. I have heard and read of the Warrior Captain. Every report pointed out Stronoff's honor and unshakable loyalty to the King."

"It is as I said."

Stressed Nigun and only fueled Screaming Blade's anger with it.

"If that is so, what does it mean for your story? Eh? Either you thoughtlessly brought a double agent with you, if the reports were indeed accurate, or you brought a lying turncoat to our home, one, that fooled the whole world. Neither speaks well of your competence."

_The correct answer is B._

Thought Momonga, but spoke with an offered cup, before Nigun could defend himself.

"Mister, I don't know, who you are, but why don't we first wet our throats and then start again with the accusation. You must have a long track behind you-"

'WHAM!'

A hard backhand stopped Momonga from speaking further and the Sixth Seat snarled.

"Shut your lying mouth. Your words have no merit, traitor."

Momonga made a point of massaging his jaw and cheek. In truth he had not felt much at all, but he still had a glimmer of hope, there would be a point of maintaining the illusion.

"Ohw, that really hurt. You should watch-"

'WHAM!'

Another backhand hit him.

"I said shut up!"

"Don't you get-"

'WHAM!'

"Shut up!"

"That you are-"

'WHAM!'

"Why won't you cease speaking!?"

Barked Screaming Blade, as he continuing backhanding Momonga, whom's head moved a little less with each further hit.

"Making me-"

'WHAM!'

"Quite-"

'Wham!'

"Angry."

'wham'

He had not moved one bit under the last hit and stared for a moment coldly, and clearly annoyed, in the flabbergast face of Screaming Blade.

"Especially when you are doing it all wrong."

"Huh?"

Got the Sixth Seat to wonder, before Momonga backhanded him in turn with unnatural strength, sending him flying through the two serves behind him, the crowd around the table and a sturdy stone wall, neither of which reacted well to being hit by 150 kilograms of metal and flesh moving at dozens of meters per second.

"Have you gone mad!?"

Screamed Nigun, but Momonga ignored him as he strode past the panicking people through the fresh hole. The tenement's wall on the other side of the main street had been cracked, but Screaming Blade was nowhere to be seen. Momonga looked left and right, past the house high column rows the Slane placed between every larger building's corner, but aside from the drizzle and running water nothing moved.

_[Detect Life]_

Cast Momonga and felt the warmth of hundreds of torches pickle his skin, just as the glowing silhouettes of the people living in Braesla filled his vision, unhindered by distance or walls. He was at once aware of everyone, even the surviving tavern guests, that fled through the exit around the corner. Everyone in human hearing distance of the crash moved, ran to the windows or for the lesser life sources among them.

All but the one above him. Momonga looked up and saw the Sixth Seat already dive for him with an humongous two-handed sword, that looked like it had been fashioned from a giant's sternum. He barely stepped back in time, before the blade sunk hilt deep into the cobble stones with a shrill howl. Screaming Blade lost no time and swung his weapon up, like he was cutting through air, spraying Momonga with the dust-turned stone of the its path.

The End narrowly evaded it and the follow up thrust, before it blocked the fourth strike with his own crossed heavy swords, he had summoned from his inventory. In the split second of the moment Momonga saw surprise in the warrior with the broken nose, before his blood stained mouth snarled.

"[Flow Acceleration]!"

_That's no Yggdrasil skill!_

Thought Momonga and felt the next second the blade pierce his abdomens armor. With a grin the Sixth Seat wedged the blade in the hole and lifted Momonga with it over him to slam him head first into the pavement. Once, twice and a third time, before the weapon came lose. Momonga tried to stand up, but the warrior's weight immediately landed on him. The magic weapon pierced his shoulder and Screaming Blade pummeled his face into the street with a punch to the back of his head.

_What was that? This guy has no magical talent, so where did he get the power for that skill?_

"You're nothing but a fake, a fucking pretender!"

Yelled Screaming Blade and continued hitting him. Momonga meanwhile kept thinking.

_Could he have an item that hides his magic reserves? A ring like mine? I've seen the humans use tier magic, so it shouldn't be to far fetched one of those could have also ended up here. On the other hand, why risk close quarter combat, when he could have simply blasted me? This guy is confusing,_

_and quite irritating._

"Defend yourself, 'Stronoff'! It is no fun, if you don't struggle! Are you not supposed to be the former Warrior Captain?"

Gloated Screaming Blade and let go of the sword's hilt to grab Momonga's head with both hands.

"For the love of the god's, brother, don't!"

Shouted Nigun from behind them, but the Sixth Seat was entirely focused on Momonga, while his hold tightened. With a sudden jerk he force-turned the ends head over a 180 degrees and finally let go with a snicker.

"So much for the wannabe-spy. Now for you, traitor!"

_Won't you ever shut up?_

Thought Momonga, while he felt the sword being pulled from his illusory flesh. Further back he heard another blade being drawn, as the weight lifted from his back and the illusion spells, he cast, undo the damage to the form of Gazef Straneff.

Momonga picked himself up and inspected his black armor. No holes, dents or even scratches marred the armors black paint and he turned pleased for the Scripture members. Nigun had drawn his own sword and was sweating hard, while he awaited the Sixth Seat's charge, who had also raised his weapon. When Momonga saw him twitch he quickly called.

"Hey!"

_Should have come up with something better._

Screaming Blade stopped his attack and looked back. It took the paling warrior half a second to switch his stance and properly face Momonga again, but the single word had cast its magic, the previous confidence was gone.

"How are you still standing? I stabbed your bowels and broke your neck!"

"Don't forget you tickled me."

"Tickle you?"

Asked Screaming Blade and Momonga held up his fists in response, causing another twitch of the warrior, perhaps in anticipation of an attack, before he noticed that 'Gazef' was pointing at his clean gauntlet and than at him, in repeat. At last he looked at his own gauntlets and noticed.

"No- No blood! Why is there no blood? Those fists can easily crush stone, but there is no blood!"

"Perhaps one of us is especially thick."

"Wha-"

'WHAM!'

Momonga had charged and kicked him in the chest, while he had been diverted, denting in the armor and hurling him through the walls of the tavern, onto the crossing street, but this time Momonga was right after him, summoning another pair of broadswords.

Screaming Blade bounced once over the cobbles, before righting his position and skidding to a halt. The undead was already upon him, hacking columns, vendors and statues to splinters with each swing, he missed. He held the edge in strength and endurance, but his opponent evaded him at every turn and even scored hits on Momonga. Yet landing a hit was not Momonga's goal.

As his cleavers missed again and turned a statue of Alah Alaf into ruble Screaming Blade back-flipped with a kick to Momonga's forehead and called.

"[Flow Acceleration]! [Fatal Edge]! [Greater Ability Boost] and [Pace of the Wind]!"

He had barely touched the ground, before he pulled up the bone sword from Momonga's navel to his shoulders with a manic grin. One that 'Gazef' mirrored.

Screaming Blade had done exactly what Momonga had hoped he would do. Use more of his unfamiliar power. In the moment the strange technique activated the End had carefully watched. Now it grinned, because it understood.

Screaming Blade might have been a boorish meat head, but it was still magic he was using, just of a different kind. The tier magic of Yggdrasil used power from deep within the user's very self, a mysterious source, whom's true nature Momonga had yet to discern, to fuel the arcane formulas, which in turn rewrote existence.

But Screaming Blade's technique was the total opposite. It did not so much force a new concept into reality, instead it temporarily remodeled the user, letting the ambient magic of the world flow into them and fuel their superhuman powers.

This 'martial art' was like a solar collector to the nuclear power plant of tier magic. Momonga deemed its inventor a genius, just as he lamented his own inability to learn it, for it could not work for him. The inherent concept prevented true magic casters or anyone with a notable magical talent from using them, as the pressure of their own magical energy prevented the world's from streaming into and fueling them.

The Sixth Seat's blade left at his shoulder and he briefly grinned in triumph, before hands like iron locks clamped down on his wrists, mashing metal and flesh. Momonga had not felt the least bit of pain, his inherent racial damage resistance made him immune to all but high-tier weaponry and the warriors blade barely qualified for mid-tier, mankind's supposed elite or not.

More and more people dared to peak out of their windows as Screaming Blade struggled, kicked and tried to bite in his painful hold, but the game had lost its thrill to Momonga. It was time to end it.

He rammed his knee into the man's stomach and the unintelligible swearing stopped with a flat grunt. He rammed it up again and again, speckling his face and breastplate with red spittle, while breaking bones and tearing sinews resounded through the empty street

Momonga forced his knee a last time in Screaming Blade's abdomen and the arms tore lose from their sockets, drawing a fearful gasp from the spectators in the windows. He came down ten meters away, while Momonga's bloody fingers stilled held the crushed metal and meat of his gauntlets.

"Still not dead?"

Wondered Momonga. Indeed, the Sixth Seat had not breathed its last and shakily rose from his own red little pool. Nothing remained of the once handsome face. The nose was broken, the lips busted and the eyes almost swollen shut. His proud blue armor was caked in his own blood and dented and scratched all over, a pitiful sight, that matched his struggling high voice.

"Who are you? What are you?"

"Honey, I'll be all, you don't want me to be."

"You are monster!"

"Yep."

_[Banshee Blast]_

Cast Momonga and a con of darkness shot out of his hand.

"[Flow Acceleration]!"

Desperately called the cripple and jumped out of the way of the pyroclastic wave like magic, as it washed over the house block, turning every life, no matter, if human or pottery plant, into a dry and rotted husk. He managed a last evasion of the stream of flames and smoke, that followed from Momongas other palm, but his power was spent.

At last his knees buckled and he collapsed, surrounded by flames and horrified screams, while Momonga loomed over him. The man had no more strength left to look up, when he mumbled.

"Wild... Wi.. Wild Magic... Fucking Dragon Lord... Warn the Theo... Have to-"

Momongas boot came down hard into the gap of his neck, silencing him at once. It was over. Nigun took his side, sword still in hand, and studied his dead brother. The captain looked ash-grey, his eyes were bloodshot, but his voice did not waver, when he prayed.

"Great Gods, please accept this devout servant in your halls. Have him find the peace, he sacrificed for you in life."

Momonga did not interfere in the small ceremony and waited patiently for Nigun to close the corpses eyes and sent more prayers to the gods, while touching his forehead, heart and abdomen.

"What is  _Wild Magic_?"

Asked Momonga, when Nigun rose again.

"The old ways, that defined power, before the gods taught us tier magic."

"Why was it abandoned?"

"It was not. Only dragons or those with their blood can use wild magic. It is a disgusting power, that consumes countless living souls to fuel it."

"So the fool mistook my spell for stripping the plebs of their souls."

"It appears so."

Concurred Nigun and looked around. The street was sullied with blood and debris, one block burned ablaze, the one across was still as the dead. Momonga had left a mess.

"Your plan of entering Slane silently is busted. So what now, Lord Gown?"

"Don't worry, my good captain, you just inspired me."

Said Momonga and placed a patronizing hand on his head.

_[Greater Death Ward]_

A faint green glow enveloped Nigun briefly in miniscule sigils and geometric forms, before they faded again and the captain asked.

"What are you doing now, again?"

"Employee protection."

_[Wail of the Banshee]_


	8. The Humanitarian

God is an Idiot

Ten days passed, since they left Braesla behind. Braesla, the home of Barn, Saim, Ilu, Veda. Braesla, that once harbored almost ten thousand souls. Braesla, that now waited to be forgotten.

Nine days passed, since he first heard a bird chirp again after the terrible silence, since he first saw life rustle in the grass after the damned calm, since he first smelled a flower after the tasteless stale of the air.

Eight days passed, since Nigun spoke last a word with Ainz, when they had found a deserted post station and horses. Since then: silence. Ainz would simply stop without a word, when night broke and wake him with a little shove, once dawn was upon them. Words were not needed.

The clatter of the hooves was their only companion, while lonely snow flakes touched and faded on their faces. The air had steadily become colder, as they traveled onward to the volcanic high plateau  _ _Caput__ , where Humanitas waited. Dark grey clouds had been occluding the sun for over a week. Each day began bleak, never turned bright and became dark again, soon.

Maybe the sun felt with Nigun. Maybe it also wondered.

What is the point?

He had submitted to Ainz to safeguard his Dana, to prevent her meeting the horror, that rode in the guise of Gazef Stronoff beside him. He hoped, if he co-operated, if he served well, it would spare not only him and his love, but also the people of Slane, see them as worthy enough, to not claim their lives. He wished , it would see a reason in staying its hand.

But it must have concluded, just like him:

What's the point?

There was no reason to show mercy or even a little bit of consideration. With its absolute power it waltzed over everything in its way without a care, just like he knowingly trampled countless bugs each day without even wondering. So could he blame it for its callousness?

And what would be the point in blaming it? Ainz never cared, neither with affection nor with hate, for anything he did or anyone else. Sure, it was perfectly capable of joking, teasing or, sometimes, even laughing, but he always heard the same notion hide in those lighter moments: '…, but I know better', 'if you had any idea...', 'it won't matter...'

Nigun felt like a prisoner of disillusionment, bound in irons of fear and false hope. His compliance would save no one. He would only serve as a witness for the damnation, that awaited them all.

But what form would this cursed fate take?

Nigun had seen powerful magi and priest cast spells, that hinted at the glory of the gods. He had used the awesome might of his final lieges himself in form of the sealing crystal and the angel Dominion Authority, wgich still remained a glorious memory.

The presence of a mighty magic caster affected deep down all souls. Having that presence shift its attention to you, doing so, while lighting up with divine and arcane symbols, provoked always one reaction in any sane being. Fear, the uncertainty of your well-being, when confronted with alien rape of your own reality. A sensible instinct bred into most races' survivors, after having learned one of the harsh truths of the world.

Magic trumped brawn. History had proven with exceedingly rare exception, that no progressed scholar of the blade could ever compete with a scholar of the arcane with similar talent and experience. The less restrictive the rules of reality became, the less relevant became the fighters physical skills. Hence it was small wonder, that the greatest living magic casters, the likes of Baharuth's state wizard Fluder Paradyn or the adventurer Evil Eye, were counted as of the same fighting strength as 10.000 regular soldiers on the field. The likes of Gazef Stronoff or the empire's arena champion equaled only a thousand, maybe two. He had always liked that example, when explaining the superiority of magical might to physical brawn.

He did till ten days ago. When with one spell more than 10.000 humans died at once. Without a foreboding presence of doom, or a flashy light show, or even a word of warning at all.

It willed it and they were gone. Whoever or whatever they were, they were at once dead. Without wasting. Without suffering. Without fear. He feared, suffered and felt his soul waste in their stead. While they didn't get to wonder, he could do nothing but ask why.

Ainz provided.

'Seemed like a good idea.'

That was the moment he stopped fearing it and discovered the cold comfort of hate. Not the rational kind for the enemies of Slane or a grating triviality, dislike, that followed an intellectual causality, but an extreme instinctual rejection. The threat of Ainz' might became an unavoidable fact of like, he now simply acknowledged like his his eventual death, if both were not the same all along. A relieving epiphany, even when it hurt-

"Ey."

-to realize true power rested with the insane-

"Ey."

-and trusting in the gods promise of salvation through merit turned out-

"Ey."

A finger snap to his temple, just strong enough to hurt, broke his concentration and he snapped back with a lot of spittle.

"What!"

"Sorry for disrupting your pseudo-intellectual self pity, but what is it?"

'Gazef' , finally out of his armor and in some plain brown trousers, a shirt and a rugged leather jacket over it, held up a stick thin baby carcass, dripping maggots and skin.

"An elf cub. The pointed ears should have been obvious enough."

"Thought so."

Confirmed Ainz and threw it away.

"And those other corpse are elves, too, right? That's why they didn't bother you. And here I thought you learned your lesson from Braesla."

"What was that lesson supposed to be?"

Acidly asked Nigun as he focused on the reins and the road. He saw another corpse just 30 meters ahead.

"How should I know? It's supposed to be your lesson."

_Fucking asshole._

Nigun's jaws clenched, but he refrained from speaking his assessment.

"Asshole."

_What? Did I accidently speak out loud?_

"That's what you are thinking right now."

Ainz smirked when Nigun looked befuddled back and his squint prompted it to speak on.

"What does that frigging ass has to rub it in? Does he get a kick from it? And what is he talking about, now?"

_Is it..._

"No, I am not scanning your mind, captain. I can just read you very easily."

"Liar."

Retorted Nigun blunt.

"Will you ever know?"

Countered Ainz just as dry, without a hint of mirth.

"I now know at least you are no god."

"Bravo."

Clapped Ainz his hand slowly twice and gave up the third time.

"What gave me off?"

_Should I tell? It asked and never cared before for insult. Oh hell._

"You act like a reckless fool with no plan. You might have the power, but you lack the foresight of a true god. No way did you plan on taking Gazef's place from the beginning,"

"I admit that was more on the fly."

Shrugged Ainz.

"Or had any deeper intention behind murdering my brothers and sisters!"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Liar!"

"As I said."

Shrugged it, again.

"And what is the point anyway of dragging me through this hell? You have no need of me. If you wanted you could easily take all the knowledge from me I'd never provide and be done with the hussle of Nigun Grid Luin! So what is the point of keeping me alive? What is the point of all of this?"

Spat back Nigun, before focusing again on the road and the previously discovered corpse, they passed.

"Just shut up, when you have nothing worthwhile to say. I tire of your antics."

_Just leave me alone. Please._

"I'll shut up once you stop looking for purpose."

Nigun stubbornly kept looking at the cobble road and surrounding fields. They were bare of plant life and dominated by long mounds of freshly turned earth, that ran parallel to the road. A single, more or less, burned down stump stuck in each one and the large black flocks, that had been dominating the sky for the last week, readily used them as resting post to gather strength and spot prey.

Thin smoke columns rose at the horizon ahead, barely visible against the pale mountains behind. The snow capped giants were their last obstacle before Humanitas, but they had been tamed. Nigun thanked again the foresight of the gods, for while they used to easily pass the continental rising, thanks to their teleportation magic, it was once a tremendous, most time of the year even impossible, endeavor for mortals to reach or leave Slane's capital.

In their wisdom the Six Great Gods had seen past their own time and envisioned the  _ _Coronari__ , though they did not get to see their work finished. All around Humanitas fine roads and bridges led to great glaciers of the mountain range. From there bore great twin tunnels, some of them almost fifty kilometers long, to the edge of the mountains. The  _ _male__  one bleed the melting water from the glaciers to the plains below, while  _ _female__  ones had rails and wagons for any purpose: person transport, wares, resources, circuses...

Each wagon or train could be linked to a relay of swimming sails in the male tunnel by steel cords over a pivot bearing. As the sails were pulled down the trains would be pulled up. Once a sail reached the end of its relay segment it would fold down and be eventually pulled up again by a descending train. The relays could also be linked to rails, that ran parallel to the great roads, allowing humans to cross the deadly mountains and reach Humanitas in less than a day comfortably and safely.

In case enemies attempted to use the tunnels selected cords could be cut, hopefully stranding the enemy or, should that not suffice, be flooded.

But that was a day's march away and he had not felt hungry yet till his delicious breakfast, sponsored by Ainz. They had passed another six rag clothed corpses, when it spoke.

"Once, in a distant desert, now long forgotten, lived an old man."

_What is it talking about, now?_

Nigun had no interest in conversing with Ainz, but it was hard to ignore it, as it rode just next to him as his only company and implied jailor. He had no choice but continue listening to the undead.

"He felt no hunger, didn't tire, did not sweat nor felt the cold. He had everything he needed."

_An old man, all alone in the desert? How could he have survived? Probably a magic caster. Why am I listening? It is Ainz lying. Wait, is it telling me..._

"He didn't even feel boredom, for he wandered the desert, till he knew every single grain of the great waste."

_He couldn't really have known every grain, so it has to be a metaphor or allegory, but what for, if Ainz is the old man? What is numberless, beyond counting, asides from sand? Does it refer to humanity or even all life?_

Ainz imitated a walking man with two swinging fingers, before pointing around with his free arm.

"The old man had seen all there is and bend down. He stuck his hand into the even sand and started carving a line till he had enough and started a new line, somewhere else, till he also tired of it and began another one, and another and another..."

_So once it had taken its stock of mankind it carved a path through it– perhaps a great devastation! Could it- Could it have been responsible for the emergence of the Greed Kings and Demon Gods? Scouts to test the waters ahead? Centuries are nothing to a creature as powerful and old as it has to be. So if it has finally stepped down itself from the beyond to our world, does this also mean, the moment of the final reaping has come? Is time up?_

Nigun couldn't help himself, he wanted to hear more, but Ainz stayed silent again, as the horses trod on. They passed many more dead elves, as they headed for the mountains, each and everyone marked by bruises, picked flesh, whip marks and hunger - a feast for the predators above. The fat crows, ravens and buzzards fed at their leisure, hacking at will only the choicest parts like eyes, lips and the tender organs, before heading for the next carcass, but the captain did not care for how the animal food chain played out.

Instead he watched nervously each human group they met or passed, always looking for faces, he might recognize, while still thinking, despite himself, about Ainz's story. The sun had passed high noon, but it hadn't spoken again apart from a short greeting, often just a nod, to the other travelers.

Had Ainz really told him a tiny glimpse of his past? If so, where did the old man come from or had he always been the steward of the desert? Was Ainz perhaps without beginning and, Nigun hoped not, without end? He found no hint in its words, so he concentrated on the lines in the sand.

Sand could represent so many things: Something uncountable, something lifeless, something hiding another below, a greater truth made up of many small ones, the base material for the purity of glass, a receiver for the suns rays or simply sand.

It was maddening to speculate with so few information, but Ainz had told him the story unbidden, so there had to be reason, a meaning behind it!

The same went on in Nigun's head for the other details. Was it on purpose there was no explicit mentioning of a line pattern or just an oversight on Ainz part? Should he put attention to the protagonist being an  _old_   _man?_ It could have said 'an old one', 'a man', a woman, a female, someone or even  _he_ , but it choose  _old man_. Why?

His head hurt from the unbidden thoughts, and while Ainz watched keenly the processions of emaciated elves guarded by stern looking soldiers, their horrible smell and whining only darkened his mood.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods, when they reached the outskirts of Ferabeeka, one of the 14 gates to Humanitas and one of three largest slaving centers of Slane. The city was protected by a ten meters tall wall, but they saw only the watchtowers on it, that reached anothern 12 meters above it and the equally high golden colored columns, so common in Slane, between them.

Ferabeeka housed over 8000 humans, yet was hidden by the work- and death camp before it, only referred to as  _ _Number Two__ by civilians and military personal alike. It could hold up to 20.000 demi-humans to be processed. Those captured elves, that survived the relentless march from the Elven Kingdom to here, would be divided by they abilities and health and sent off all over the theocracy to serve diverse roles: mining ore, breaking and pulling stones, clearing forests or serving as hunting bait, but most were sentenced to a merciful judgment:  _field work_.

They would rise early at morning, be divided by lottery into groups and march off to the fields under the scrutiny of hardened soldiers and a priest. There they would fill holes and dig afterwards new ones. Coming day a new group of elves would fill the last days holes and dig graves of their own. The priest would sanctify they remains at dawn to prevent the rising of undead and the process would repeat the next day, until the war with Elven King had ended or no more elves were left. Of course those options were not mutually exclusive.

The last few hundred meters to the city gate led past two large enclosures, just a few meters to each side of the road. Behind wooden fences, studded with rusty nails like hedgehogs near the top, vegetated the knife ears in their own waste. The stink was eye watering, a miasma of sweat, blood and emptied bowels. Nigun had always hated this part of the journey to Tob.

Not because Hundreds cried in anguish with their starved loved ones in their arms, or because Thousands looked after him with burning hate in their sunken eyes. Not because the scared creatures rocked back and forth in their own filth, when thinking of the coming day.

He hated the coarse bellowing of the overseers as they mistreated the inferior things. He hated the greedy foreign slave traders, that congregated here to supply the perversions of the lesser nations mighty. He hated especially the pointless cruelty.

Nigun felt no sympathy for the enemies of Slane, but in his mind Slane degraded itself with the camps. They were not even economical. Escorting the elves all the way from the Elven Kingdom to here, operating the camps and securing the cities and resources of Slane against the slaves cost far more than simply slaughtering all prisoner. He had spent months in vain trying to convince his superiors, who clearly understood his arguments, even applauded him for his work and still did not change the practice.

They called the suffering of the elves a " _righteous punishment for the sins of their king",_ but he saw no righteousness in it. All he saw, every time he passed, were bullies falsely inflating their own egos with the degradation of others. Most Slane would have been scandalized and shamed, should they ever see a slave camp for themselves, he was sure of it. Perhaps that was the reason only older soldiers, those that prolonged their tour on their own accord, were used to guard these camps, so the disgrace would remain a secret to most citizens. He felt tempted to suggest Ainz to burn down the whole camp, including the captives, but he refrained. Asking an enemy of the gods for favors was blasphemy.

At last they reached the city gates and, after trading in their steeds, left the stink and wailing behind thick walls, but not the moral degeneration. At first glance Ferabeeka looked similar to Bresla: high, flat-topped tenements and mansions, the ubiquitous, and often by the inhabitants lovingly customized, columns between them and most younger adults in a uniform of one kind or another.

The few not wearing the blue of the army or a priest's garments were slavers from outside of Slane, who haggled noisily for the gagged knife ears in irons on the wooden podiums of the market place. Despite the official proscription or severe limitation of slavery in the neighboring nations of Re-Estize and Baharuth, there were still many men and women of power left, who desired the elven captives for their perverse desires or as indentured servants. He also suspected some elves would be sold as delicacies, to humans and demi-humans alike, by the less scrupulously slave traders. Nigun himself never cared for it. Elf tasted like very old pork: though and stringy, without enough fat in his opinion.

"20 gold shillings for the blonde with the green eyes!"

Heard he Ainz suddenly join in the shouting and turned back. 'Gazef' stood in a small group of bidders, that looked at 'him' with irritation and amusement alike, while the bald slaver on the podium before them almost choked. 20 gold shillings was far too much for a first bid, even for a fine specimen like the leave tattooed male, that was on display. The best slaves seldom earned the trader more than 10 gold shillings and only after most vicious bidding matches. The other bidders must have thought the same and refrained from placing new offers.

The trader caught himself again and hastily spoke.

"I hear 20 gold shillings, do I hear a higher bid?"

The others chuckled.

"20 gold the first! 20 gold the second! 20 gold the third! Sold for 20 gold shillings to the handsome gentlemen in the vest!"

While it handed the obviously happy slaver a small pouch, his assistants exchanged the elf's iron chain for a sturdy rope and led the creature down. Even after weeks of marching, starving and enduring the whims of the guards the whip striped body held a memory of muscles and pride, most other slaves had long since lost. It stared daggers at Ainz, as the undead accepted the rope. Defiantly it tried staying in place.

Ainz only yanked the rope, as it caught up with Nigun, toppling the elf and dragging it along without the slightest inconvenience. The slave screamed and cursed unintelligibly under its gag, while Nigun asked with a frown.

"You don't plan to take that to Humanitas?"

"Don't worry. I won't set him loose in the capital, I promise."

Dissuaded Ainz his worries futily, while Nigun thought.

_Oh dear gods._

The people started to stare, as the elf kept resisting. The slave stemmed its feet in every risen cobble it could reach, wound its body, tried to yank back. Ainz was not moved one bit and did not seem to mind, but they were getting an uncomfortable lot of attention.

Nigun had enough, when they were just a few corners away from the train station and bend down for it with dander blared nostrils. Gripping the thick, long hair he rammed its head into street, once, twice.

"Just leave him alive, okay?"

Nigun did not respond to the callous request, as he pulled the muttering elf to its feet and hissed.

"Be silent."

The captain pinched shut its bloody nose, till its panicking eyes started to roll back. A hard backhand hit denied the release and it immediately started to curse again, before Nigun pinched its nose anew and stated.

"Be silent, now or forever."

_I don't really care for one way or another._

The struggle stopped and the slave followed at last with a hanging head.

_Why do I have to clear up your mess?_

Wanted to spit Nigun, as he took his place at Ainz side with a dark glare and turned the last corners.

The low sun was already hidden behind the roofs, when they finally arrived at the train station. Its was a functional block of a building, a sack station with four lanes behind it, yet still nice to look at. The thin columns at its front had been painted by children with motives only a prmitive mind could have chosen. Crudely drawn bees, flowers, clouds and humans formed an appealing contrast to the flat grey stone of the building proper. Even Ainz raised a brow at seeing it, but Nigun had no idea, why it suddenly laughed when witnessing the Coronari on the other side the first time.

In the centuries since its finishing the tunnel entrance had been lovingly carved into a veritable piece of art. A pair of great angel wings spread from both sides to almost 8 times the width of the smooth walled hole in the mountain side and a kite shaped emblem with the ornate names of the involved engineers above it watched the coming and leaving trains.

Nigun paid the white clad conductors for a single cabin in the last wagon. It was far from luxurious, but the padded seats were comfortable enough for the coming nine hours trip to Humanitas and magical lightning would keep the tunnels darkness at bay.

The train began to rumble into motion, when he returned from the wagon's mini library with a worn copy of "Navigating the Labyrinth – the collected wisdom of Alah Alaf". The still bound elf cowered on the floor in a corner, while Ainz rested his head on a fist with two fingers to its temples and stared out the window into tunnel's darkness. A tasty smelling wrapping waited for Nigun on his seat next to the door, opposite to Ainz.

As he chewed on the, as always, delicious bread and cold cuts he flipped open the book. He always used to read the laymen's religious texts on the way back from a mission. Often his comrades would join him and they would interpret and discuss together the manifests of the gods. Nigun would educate them on the finer details, most laymen overlooked, build context between the seemingly differing messages of the Six and sometimes he would also gain a new insight, be it spiritual or personal, from those lessons.

Now he read to calm himself. After over twenty years of service he could almost recite the words blindly, yet he still hoped he would perhaps discover a new insight, or at least a hint, what his lieges expected of him, on how he should act.

'Be honest with yourself and your fellow humans.' Ainz would have surely grinned.

'Be kind and receive kindness.' Had Ainz been treated badly in Braesla?

'Be aware of your place and role.' Ainz acted so unfitting of a god Nigun could not suppress a snort and hastily sent a prayer for forgiveness to Alah Alaf for questioning his wisdom.

He felt an air current and looked up into hetero-chromatic eyes of blue and green. A blonde elf girl in an extremely expensive looking short skirt dress stood nervously before him with a gnarled staff in her hands and a backpack. Behind her he saw a hole in the wall close and thought, he glimpsed another, very pale girl wink from the other side.

_Judging by the apparent worth of the gear it is wearing it is must be a lackey of Ainz. What does he need the slave for then, when he already has elves working for him? Or are they simply too young for his  needs?_

Although unexpected the moment paled in comparison to shock of Braesla's annihilation. Nigun closed his book and asked calmly.

"Yes?"

"So-Sorry for disturbing you, Lord Mo- Lord Gown, but I-"

"Over here, Mare."

It paled visibly and quickly turned and a bowed for Ainz, whom did not look angered at all. The elf on the ground on the other hand got very excited and tried to rise, before a swift kick from Nigun placated it.

Mare waited politely, before starting again.

"I am terribly sorry, Lord Gown, but I did not know the shape, you had taken and the humans all look so simi-"

"Mare,"

Interrupted Ainz its stammering.

"Don't sweat it. Just get to the point, my boy."

_Boy? It is a he?_

"Right!"

Mare handed Ainz three small books from its backpack, that could have easily fitted into Nigun's palm. It looked pristine compared to the worn thing on his lap and Ainz skimmed through it, while the boy explained.

"Demiurge completed the new world's written language translation into Japanese. Aura has begun an encyclopedia of the local fauna and we have created a provisional..."

Suddenly a head sized blue ball of lines of light appeared over one open booklets. A cloud of red points circled around it and yellow glowing blots were smeared irregularly all over it.

_Is that a frigging..._

".world map. I marked some selected spots, you might find interesting, Lord Gown. I- I hop-hop-hope you don't mind."

Ainz snapped shut the book and the image disappeared.

"On the contrary, Mare, I appreciate it. You all have done well. I'm sure, I will enjoy learning, what you have found."

"Th-thank you, my Lord!"

The little one smiled gladly for the comment and kneeled down to the slave, who stared wide eyed at its racial sibling.

"Take him to the tomb and see, what you and Aura can get out of him."

"Of course, Lord Gown."

Answered Mare and stopped inspecting the sweating elf's eyes and skin, like it was a horse. The boy placed two fingers to his temples, like Nigun had seen Ainz do several times before. Just a few seconds later the two knife ears dropped in a hole, that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The man and undead were alone once more. Nigun stared at Ainz, again.

"You want to ask something?"

Asked it laconically.

"Will you put it through the same madness, you forced upon me? Finding his friends and family could prove hard."

"Yeah, I guess your guys already took care of that. No, I have other interests in the elf."

_Then I feel sorry for it._

"But there is something else on the tip of your tongue. Right, Captain?"

It was right. He needed confirmation, a reason to go on, or at least a false hope...

"Have you come here to kill us all? Will you finish, what the Greed Kings and Demon Gods began?"

Its face was unreadable, the studying stare of 'Gazef's' brown eyes hard to bear, but he held it stubbornly, if just out of spite. At last its mouth corner's twitched and it asked it turn.

"Where did you get that idea from? Because I pacified Braesla? I am sure the Theocracy has done the same many times before and the world is still standing."

_Not with one spell. Not on a whim._

"But the story you told!"

"What about it?"

"Was it not a metaphor for you, how you brought disaster to world? Was that not the point of it?"

Ainz smiled again, but it was a kind he had not seen before on it. Not the charming one, it used to deceive and not the sneer, he had learned to hate.

"I am not here to kill you alll."

"But Braesla-"

"Was an opportunity, nothing more, nothing less."

_An opportunity for what? What could you have gained by massacring all those people? Braesla was insignificant apart from the lives there!_

"And about my story..."

"Yes?"

"It's just a random story I made up at the moment. It has no hidden truth whatsoever."

_Are you kidding me?_

"I have been trying to find meaning in it all day and now you are telling me there was no point to it!"

Nigun was about to explode, but the look in Ainz's eyes stopped him. They looked sad, even tired.

"Now you are getting it, Captain."

"Get what?"

He really did not.

"That you see higher meaning, where there is none, purpose that was never intended, sense, when there wasn't one to begin with. I offered you some random words and in your dour need for a reason you interpreted more into them, than there ever was."

"But..."

"Compared to you and the people of Slane I could very well be a god and still... I have no meaning to offer you, no truth to tell, no intended purpose. Could this have happened before, Nigun?"


	9. The Jason

God is an Idiot

It felt good to let his legs dangle on such a beautiful day. The wind must had been refreshing and carried sweet notes of young leaves and blossoms, instead of the rancid decay he had expected of a metropolis or the sour ashen smell, he faintly remembered from Earth. Fine cloud veils painted the sky in a calming symphony of blue and white. All, that was missing, were little songbirds coming to rest on his rip-cage's bones and sing for him.

Humanitas looked like a veritable paradise from the spires edge. He saw all over islands of green rise between the simplistic, yet elegant, buildings and his gaze could travel kilometers along the wide, paved boulevards before it reached the city wall. Here and there other thin towers, like the one he had found refuge on, spiked up, crowned with statues of one of the Six Great Gods, that kept careful watch of their chosen people.

The prattle of discordant, and often still high, voices dominated the air, for the vast majority of Humanitas' population had not yet seen their twentieth winter. The capital of the mightiest human nation was a city of children and adolescents.

Momonga had seen smaller markets on the way here, but the wide plaza below him lacked any stands or merchants. Jogging formations of youngsters in black shorts and gray shirts stirred up dust under the barks of their adult instructors, while others, regardless of sex, fought mock battles with blunted weapons or barehanded. He even spotted a few groups, that collectively beat up one of their own, while their superiors encouraged them to not hold back.

Compared to that his own youth might have been dreary, but at least it had been peaceful. This resembled more military drill than any higher school he would have liked to attend, yet few seemed unhappy. Under the sweat and dust caked faces he saw an eager determination to go on, to evolve, to excel.

None noticed the undead creature looming right over them, thanks to [Perfect Unknowable], one of the mightiest illusion spells in Momonga's arsenal. It hid him not only behind a veil of invisibility, but from all senses: hearing, touch, heat, smell, taste or most detection spells. Even his actions became a natural part of the outside reality, if he so desired. Only detection magic of the ninth tier and above or an exceptional rogue like his old comrade Nishikienrai could have detected him.

But still he saw a subtle blur in the distant sky, flying at hundreds of kilometers per hour, head for him. It might have been invisible to the humans below, but he could clearly make out the arcane runes cover the hidden form like a polygon net.

Momonga looked up past the skeletal face of Surshana, as it circled the spire once on a pair of avian wings before landing to his side.

"Hello, Albedo."

Greeted the End.

The shape bowed lightly and sat down. Albedo sighed, though he could not tell without an actual face if earnest, and greeted.

"Good day, Lord Momonga. I had hoped to surprise you, but it seems you even account for low level magical items like a Ring of Greater Invisibility."

"Actually I didn't, but I noticed the code wrapped around you, that hides your form. I still can't  _ _see__  you."

"You... you discovered me by the very magic that was supposed to hide me?"

"Yeah, shortly after you passed the mountain's edge."

"I am no caster, my Lord, but even Pandora's Actor had to cast a spell in your guise to actually see me, when I donned the ring, and he was standing right in front of me. Clearly, I underestimated the power of a Supreme Being once again. Please accept my apology."

"There's nothing to apologize for."

Dismissed it Momonga, but he was still confused. If P.A. assumed his old Overlord levels, even at reduced ability, should he not have gained the same skills of a caster? By now, as he had grown accustomed to his new un-life, to him every spell, every magical item, even the ubiquitous street lamps, were caked in black runes, becoming ever more intricate and tighter, as the tier of the used magic rose. Yet his own creation, who could also become a level 100 spell caster, did not notice them?

It boggled him, but for now another question was more important.

"What brings you here, Albedo?"

Her outline tipped its head.

"I am the Guardian Overseer, Lord Momonga. I am here strictly for business, of course."

"Then you came way over time. I dumped off the captain barely an hour ago. I doubt we'll see him soon."

Said he and pointed behind them. Albedo followed his thump to the wall of seamless white stone, that rose from the center of the city. Momonga himself had unwanted kindled a smug smirk from Nigun, when he was left speechless at seeing it for the first time.

The palace of Humanitas was a wonder, that even in Yggdrasil would have been hard pressed to find an equal in size or sheer monolithic presence. Its to the ground narrowing walls sported, as far as his exceptional vision had been able to see, not one fugue and followed a narrow, almond shaped base over three kilometers long. All around it stairs on thin round arches led up to the edge 400 meters above, where, beyond their line of sight, stood the Great Cathedral of the Six.

"They call it Corsanctum, can you believe it? As if tier magic wasn't proof enough, that other Players came here before us, the shoddy use of pseudo Latin is."

"Quo probare non."

"Don't you start."

Stopped her Momonga, but Albedo just chortled and asked.

"Speaking of dead languages. How do your studies of Demiurge's translation fare, my Lord?"

Language was still one of the greatest mysteries of the New World he had to solve. When he was attacked by a short lived tribe of goblins during his first venture into the Great Forest of Tob, he understood them and they his "Bye" perfectly, as had every other sentient being he had encountered so far, despite the ridiculous chance. Was it because of his own skills, a remnant of Yggdrasil's auto-translator or an inherent quirk of the world? He had not found one clue so far clearly pointing at one of those explanations and had to just accept it for the moment.

He had used the time on the train to read up on the devil's conversion of Kanji to the new world's Draconic Alphabet, that seemingly was used by all the surrounding nations. Instead of distinct signs for each word they used symbols corresponding to the used spoken syllables, as had been common in many of the western societies on Earth. The Draconic used only sixteen symbols, but each could stand for up to 5 different sounds, so it still required some interpretation to read the words correctly.

Demiurge had also thought of that and added examples of Japanese words to the included preliminary dictionary, that resembled the required sound when spoken aloud and added further simple, yet distinct, pictures for each object or task listed. Sometimes Demiurge even added a short cartoon of his own face speaking each syllable in special cases like names or objects, that had no corresponding equivalent in the old world.

In Momonga's mind it was an exceptional work, especially since the Guardian wrote it in just a week, giving the End one more reason to fear the devil's intellect. Yet the most troubling problem of the translation was not his servant's genius, it was his own inability to work with much of the book. He didn't recognize many of the symbols anymore. The memory of him staring half an hour at one before at last realizing, it had to mean something along the line of "Sasuga" - "As expected" - still irked him and the dead ends repeated all over the book, often several time on one page alone.

His studies had hit a wall.

"Well enough."

Replied Momonga. Perhaps too fast, as Albedo waited a few seconds before pointing at the large blue letters hanging over the opposing corner of the Plaza.

"What do they say?"

_Shit _._ _

"Glo- Glory to Surshana, Lord of Death."

Stammered Momonga.

"To the Toilets. No Fornicating. The last part with an exclamation mark. That one?"

Her finger moved to a big board with bold red letters, under which several of the instructors rested.

_Gimme a break._

"That's today's timetable for classes."

"Fascinating. So the maggots will learn about 'omelet with baked potatoes', after they finished 'turnip cream soup?' I can only wonder what lesson 'Meat Balls with Trumpet Mushroom' entails."

Laughed Albedo and was about to move her hand, when Momonga grabbed it and groused.

"Enough."

"Excuse me?"

Mocked the black polygons.

"I said  _enough_."

"But I want to be a useful servant and learn from you, Lord Momonga!"

Chided she back and slipped out of his grip. He could swear, she was grinning at his misfortune under the spell's veil, while his metaphorical blood started to boil. The woman's malicious joy was totally uncalled for. For pete's sake, he was still her boss!

"Gimme that ring!"

"I think not."

Rebuffed him Albedo and inspected her hand.

"Gimme!"

"No."

Defied she him and evaded his snatching hand, raising his ire further.

"That would not be wise, my Lord."

"I don't care! Take off the ring!"

Fumed Momonga and continued trying to grab it, which she in turn avoided again with a giggle.

"Gimme!" - "No." - "Gimme!" - "Na-ah." - "Now!" - "Maybe later." - "This instant!" - "Or what?" - "I'll make you squirm!" - "I would like to see that." - "WOMAN!"

She avoided his hand at every turn, till he had enough and pounced on her. Albedo squealed and wriggled, but he kept her pinned under him between his knees. She was too quick and nimble for him to catch her hands, so instead he grabbed her upper arms and growled triumphantly.

"Gotcha!"

His claws traveled up her smooth skin, till he got hold of the gloved wrist. She barely resisted as he forced her arms above her head together.

"What if someone sees me, Lord Momonga?"

There was no hint of worry in her words, just more tease. He changed his grip, so one of his hands held her in comparison tiny wrists alone, while the other at last got hold of the damnable item. As he pulled it off, the arcane runes paled and he finally gazed at Albedo, red cheeked and with the pearly grin, he had suspected all the time.

"You have won, my Lord. What now?"

Breathed she and he thought he heard her heart beat, while her slit eyes blinked at him.

A loud bell rung under them and shook the spires tiles. It had not been her heart, but footsteps he had heard. He signaled her to remain silent with a finger to his teeth and quickly extended [Perfect Unknowable] to cover her as well, before leading her back to the edge, still holding on to her hand.

The kids below stopped their drill and rushed to spire's base, where they sat down in the packed sand with their instructors. The bell kept toiling, till the whirled up dust had settled and a full men's voice shouted.

"Class 579-83, greet your rector, Madam Pon Las Feyar!"

The kids raised in union a fist to the sky and cried with all their might.

"HAIL, MADAM FEYAR!"

Momonga heard another set of feet enter the cabin below and softly address the former speaker,

"Thank you, Maluo."

before she greeted her young audience with a trained and commanding voice.

"And hail to you, Aspirants! I feel blessed once more by the god of life, when seeing such fine stock toil for the future.

In the four years you have lived in Humanitas you have grown strong, thanks to the harsh lessons of Lord of Lord Fuji Salfer.

You have become become smarter under the tests of Lord Yalla Himi.

You have found pleasures and content in Lord Kaloahalii's bountiful blessings and

you have accumulated wisdom of your own in Lord Plutonios hallowed city.

You have almost walked the same path as I once did. As every proud of citizen of Slane once did.

But your path is not finished yet. The last steps to becoming men and women still lie before you. I see it in your eyes. The burning desire, the inner turmoil, the restless legs, the hidden fear.

What am I talking of!?"

"THE TRIAL'S OF SURSHANA!"

Cried the aspirants and Lady Feyar continued satisfied.

"That is right. This year you will face the trials of the God of Death for the first time. In less than a month you will march south under the guidance of you honorable tutors to show the enemies of humanity, why they should fear the greatest nation of Slane.

It is a terrible test of strength, of wit, of conviction and faith and I owe it your true dedication thus far to be also true in turn.

Not all will make it back to learn more of what it means to be a Slane. The enemies of mankind are monstrous, they are cunning, they have no conscience and they are without number. This conflict will not end with a single victory or one great glorious battle. It will continue, till the last demi-human, the last monster, the last traitor rots or humanity has breathed its last in shameful failure. Can any of you imagine such dreadful vision?"

"NO!"

"And neither will I!

The trial's of Surshana are without end, for we are, as we always have been and will always be, at total war with a hostile world, that would see us all dead. That would forget the achievements of your parents and ancestors! That would steal from you the felicity you deserve! That would deny a future for your own progeny, if you let it!

"NEVER!"

"I feel the same as you do. Know, that there is only one way to avert such a fate.

No matter what will be coming for you, you must endure to fight another day! You must kill, so they won't kill you! And if all else fails, you must sacrifice, so others can fight on in your stead! Know, that only one path can lead to salvation, to the peace of the gods' afterlife.

You must butcher the enemies of mankind!"

"YES!"

Roared the teenagers.

"You must gut them with your steel!"

"YES!"

"Fill them with your arrows!"

"YES!"

"Burn them with your Faith!"

"ALWAYS!"

"Strangle their cubs!"

"GLADLY!"

"Tear down their works!"

"AS WRITTEN!"

"HAIL TO THE ONLY SIX GREAT GODS!"

Cried Lady Feyar with them and Momonga saw her spittle rain down with each hate filled word.

"HAIL TO ALAH ALAF!"

"HAIL!"

Answered the aspirants with sky thrusting fists.

"HAIL TO FUJI SALFER!"

"HAIL!"

"HAIL TO KAMOHOALII!"

"HAIL!"

"HAIL TO YALLA HIMI!"

"HAIL!"

"HAIL TO PLUTONIOS!"

"HAIL!"

"HAIL TO SURSHANA!"

"HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!"

The noise was deafening. Her audience had become a frothing mob, that shouted its fear and hatred to sky and their rector led them revel in the collective emotion. For minutes Momonga listened fascinated, as the Hundreds of adolescents pledged their promises to the gods and cursed their told enemies with soar throats, till the bell was struck again.

I toiled six times, before the kids had found again a semblance of calm and Lady Feyar continued quieter.

"Gods bless you and gods bless the Theocracy. Let us pray together."

Her charges bend their knees and the rector began leading them in prayer, as Momonga had heard Nigun do with his tropes, all the while his mind rattled. While the children averted their eyes and touched their foreheads, he turned to Albedo.

"When you return to Nazarick I want you to send Sebas to Re-Estize and Aureole to Baharuth, until I call them back."

"Under which orders?"

"None."

"My Lord?"

Asked Albedo unsure and Momonga went on.

"Tell them only to keep Nazarick's existence a secret and leave them otherwise free to do, as their conscience demands."

"I am not sure I can follow. What is your intent, Lord Momonga?"

He stopped playing with the ring in his free hand and snipped it over the edge. Albedo caught it, before it had flown a meter and chided.

"What are you doing? Nazarick is almost bankrupt and you are tossing away a precious item?"

"It's worth the lesson for you. You wanted to learn from me, so let it fall."

"But..."

His stare stopped any further complains and she hesitatingly obeyed, letting the gleaming item drop into the crowd below. A boy cried out and rubbed his head, earning a sore look from the girl next to him, till she noticed the ring on the ground.

She picked it up and after a moment of studying it with wide eyes slipped it over her finger. At once the black runes spread over her and stole her from mortal sight. The commotion began.

He knew the ring had served its purpose, when he saw a knowing smile spread across Albedo's face and rose.

"We are done here. I guess it'll still be hours, before the captain has finished his debrief, so we'll might as well be lollygagging in the meantime."

"Do you suggest..."

"Yes. Lets explore the capital, see what is has to offer."

"...Of course. Lead away, my Lord."

Sighed Albedo and Momonga had to think of their previous conversations, where her disdain, if not outright revulsion of humans had been plain. He resolved to change her opinion and reminded her to hold on at all times, or the spell hiding her would fail. He felt her slender fingers lock into his hard claws and confirmed with a last look down into her eyes, she was ready, before he leaped.

* * *

Gazef checked the wristwatch he brought from Nazarick for the nineth time, while he waited at the base of the stairs leading up to the Cathetral of the Six. Corsanctum's bulk already blocked out the sun behind it and few people still stepped on the escalator leading up, while the against direction had become crowded.

"Hr-hrm."

He looked up at a clean shaven bonehead in a long mantle and with a large duffel bag over his shoulder. He needed a few seconds, before he recognized with a toothy smile the scarred face of Nigun.

"My captain, you finally made it."

"Obviously. Let us move, Stronoff."

Snarled the priest back and began speedily walking, without waiting for a reply. Gazef followed in a natural march of his own, as did Momonga and Albedo.

They too had been waiting for Nigun for some time and although Momonga had used some of it to instruct the Guardians, most of it had been spent in awkward quiet.

The city trip with her had not had the effect, he desired. He had shown her some landmarks, he thought impressive, but she kept comparing them to the literally fantastic architecture of Nazarick. She always pointed out little flaws - "The windows should not face north."- or ways how it could have been done better - "They could add some white paint to keep it cool" - he never had a sensible reply for.

When he stole her some candied almonds and fruit flavored ice cream, delicacies he had never gotten the chance to enjoy himself and likely never would, she had heaved after the first taste and politely declined partaking further.

He finally took her to a park, where the humans enjoyed a game eerily similar to American football, but with a spike studded ball and way more brutality. She just stared at him quizzically and asked for the point of watching another's physical exercise, especially when none could compare with him anyway.

Nothing of the human's culture impressed or teased a smirk of appreciation from her, yet still she wore a content smile, that radiated peace, when they met up and waited with his fraud.

He was glad at first, when Gazef was not dissuaded by Nigun's grim face and filled the silence.

"What happened, captain? You look like fresh from a katschuja symphony. Something amiss? Didn't it go well?"

Nigun stared at the former warrior captain, like  _ _he__ had been hearing symphonies and only him. Momonga felt with the priest and barely held himself back from smacking the turncoat over the head.

_What the...? What the hell is that fool sputtering?_

"I do not want to repeat myself. You can wait, till we meet Dana."

"Oh don't be such a misery. It's a bright day, real kaiser weather."

_Shut up!_

"Hence why the merchants are igniting their lanterns."

"The birds are chirping."

_Please, shut up!_

"They are irritated by Corsanctum's shadow."

"And all the lovely misses are appreciating you."

"They are- You might have a point there."

Gave Nigun in and headed with a novel smile for a flower stand, where a freckled ginger woman with a large rack waved for him, ignoring all the passing ladies, that played with their hair and studied him. Momonga was about to hold Gazef back, when Albedo leaned into him and whispered.

"His imitation is perfect. He really has a talent for acting."

"I'm nothing like that!"

Denied Momonga instantly, but she dragged him after the men with a wink, before he could properly point out the mistakes.

"Hi there, handsome soldier. Back once more from the front and with a new cut. I like it."

Beamed the stand owner at Nigun, whom ran with a bashful blush a hand over the naked scalp.

"Thank you. It seemed appropriate."

"Just make sure you're not missing anything more the next time you come back."

Reminded the ginger and reached for some calla lilies, greens and cord. Nigun frowned and asked.

"Who..?"

"Young Wainin Der Essir didn't return. Got captured by elves. Don't think I need to say more."

"I hope he got to use his capsule, before they turned him into a living banner."

"Jadin said he raised a smart boy. Said there's a good chance the lad died on 'is own terms."

Assured him the woman with a sad smile and handed the new bunch an ashen faced lady, whom accepted it with a clipped nod, before shambling off. Gazef took her spot and clapped Nigun's shoulder heartily.

"Captain, I've got to say, you found yourself a real beauty. Your Dana is a flower all of her own."

If he intended to earn some goodwill, Gazef severely miscalculated, as both Slane glared at him, before she cleared her throat and said.

"I'm not Dana. Name is Lora. The captain and I are... just friends."

"Sorry, I thought..."

"Forget it."

Brushed him Lora off and turned back to Nigun.

"The usual white carnations?"

He nodded and Lora went to work without further banter, before handing Nigun his bunch and turning to the next customer. She did not say goodbye. Nigun left a few coins and led to a quieter neighborhood in the inner city.

The streets had emptied, when he finally stopped before a narrow two story townhouse. The little green before it had been planted with well groomed bushes and the naked bricks been painted with chalk in the image of a pastoral forest under a cloudy sky.

Nigun brushed off his mantle and adjusted the grip on his duffel bag, before ascending the five steps to the door and walking in, his three companion right on his heel.

"Dana , I am home! Dana, are you there?"

"Nig?"

Called back a bawdy woman's voice from up the wooden stairway.

"Yes."

Confirmed Nigun and Momonga heard for the first time true joy swing in the captain's words.

"Gimme a min', I'm on the drops. Sucker won't budge."

"Take your time, darling."

Singsonged Nigun and let the bag drop on the ground floor's only sofa in front of a cold chimnee. He filled it with coal bricks from a nearby stack, lit them with a match and then walked further back into the house.

While Gazed waited politely at the door, Momonga stepped with Albedo to the little table before the sofa and picked up one of the files from the messy pile on it. It had a six sided star in its header and Albedo went slowly with a finger over the symbols next to it, reading for him.

"'Internal Investigations'."

A relieved groan, followed by a wet splash, sounded from upstairs. The End heard a toilet flush and heavy steps and turned back to the stairs, where Gazef looked flabbergast up and marveled.

"I never thought I'd see German tanks roll again."

Momonga had enough. He tensed to jump on his infuriating ploy, but stopped when he saw the first massive calve step on the creaking stairway. Gazef was not far off the mark. What came down was a veritable Valkyrie, build like a bear and with a matching glare in her blue eyes.

"Who are ye?"

Demanded she to know with a raised finger, that was tattooed with fine writing like the rest of her well defined arms. Momonga was certain, if it came to blows his Gazef would easily win, but he still answered meekly.

"Gazef. Stronoff."

"Stronoff."

Let Dana roll the words in her mouth, till realization hit her and and she asked.

"The Warrior Captain from Re-Estize?"

"Ja, though it's Ex-Warrior Captain now. I had a falling out."

"Did ye? Nig, dear, have ye brought guests along?"

"More like a stray."

Called Nigun from the backroom and Momonga wondered, when the captain had become so bold. Albedo also looked morbidly fascinated and asked him, without looking away from Dana.

"Why does she have fur on her arms?"

"That's normal. All human women have body hair, but I think most shave it off."

"All over..."

He regretted sharing that information, when he saw Albedo pale and force down a blob of bile. He had not done his goal of sympathizing her to humanity a favor with it.

Nigun returned with the bunch and an opened wine bottle. Dana looked aghast, when she saw him and rushed down the stairs. The bonehead quickly pushed the flowers and drinks into Gazef's hands, before she got hold of Nigun's head and inspected with worried eyes the naked skin.

"Nig! What happened to yer hair?"

"That is not easy-"

"And where's your uniform?"

"Dana-"

"What happened? Do I've to be worried?"

"Dana! Let us just enjoy this moment. Please."

Begged Nigun and took hold of her hands, forcing them carefully down, before he placed a soft kiss on her lips. The Valkyrie calmed and laid a massive arm around Nigun's neck, meanwhile he combed her blond locks behind her ear and ran his hand down her spine.

While his servant's watched the tender exchange, Momonga heard several sharp whispers and boots, many boots in fact, on the street. The time had come.

"Albedo."

"Hmm?"

Mused she entranced by the scene.

"Have Mare get ready."

"Just..."

"Now, Albedo."

"Yes, at once. I am sorry, Lord Momonga."

Composed Albedo herself blushing and brought her free hand to her temple.

_[Message] "P.A. , it is time. Get out."_

_" Jawohl, mein Schoepfer!"_

Gazef cleared his throat.

"Ehm, maybe I should give you some private space. Yes, that seems appropriate."

The arm on Nigun's back shooed him out, but Momonga did not miss, that Dana not only looked past her lover's head to Gazef, yet also the windows next to the entrance.

"See you later, captain."

As soon as the door clicked shut Momonga heard metal rattle and a hoarse throat bellow.

"Hold right there!"

"Gentlemen, what is the matter?"

"I said hold!"

Nigun also finally notice the noise and entangled from the reluctant Dana, to move for the door. Barely a few steps on his way a subtle sizzle turned into a deafening growl, till the windows' glass burst inwards.

The humans were knocked off their feet by the monstrous roar, while Momonga calmly shielded Albedo with his robe from the shards. Flame streams brighter than a magnesium flare shot past the burst windows and ignited the curtains by the ambient heat alone.

Momonga knew he was finished here, when he saw golden scales on a gigantic reptilian foot walk by and opened a [Gate] back to the grounds of Nazarick. The pastoral green on the other side appeared surreal compared to the burning devastation, where the cacophony of bestial roars, breaking stone and desperate screams drowned out the birds he usually heard, when making a trip home.

His fallen guardian angel gave no sign of minding the quickly spreading flames. Momonga was not certain, if it was the fire's light reflecting off her alabaster skin or a sincere blush, when he offered her to step first through the wormhole, but she released at last his hand, as she left Humanitas.

As the building shook and dust rained from the ceiling the End felt for the first time since arriving in the New World, like he was truly missing something. One foot had already stepped through the [Gate], when he looked back.

Nigun lay motionless over his also still wife with glass shards and splinters embedded in his back and scalp, his arms forced around her blonde mane. Seeing him like that Momonga had no choice but be reminded of his first meeting with the priest.

"Sentimental fool."

Muttered he and reached into his inventory for a potion. He walked to the fallen couple and spilled the red liquid over them, like dowsing a tire in gasoline, before letting the bottle just drop and entering the portal himself.

The outskirt of Nazarick felt unaccustomed, despite having walked it so many times. Maybe it was the lack of chatting people, after spending the past days with the human in Slane, the relative quiet, broken only by the occasional chirp. Momonga did not want to dwell on it and closed the [Gate] as he stepped to his servants.

Albedo watched him from the corner of her eyes with a faint smirk, while Pandora's Actor, his egg-headed creation, was scratching his head and wondered.

"Wo bleibt der Meister? Gab es eine Planaenderung? Albedo, glaubt ihr, ihm koennte etwas zugestossen sein?" / where remains the master? was there a change of plan? Albedo, do you think something happened to him?

"I'm standing right here, fool."

Said Momonga, but Pandora's Actor did not acknowledge him and went on

"Vielleicht sollten wir Shalltear holen und noch ein [Gate] öffnen? Die Sicherheit Meister Momonga's ist Nazarick's oberste Prioritaet!" / maybe we should call Shalltear and open another [Gate]? the master's safety is Nazarick's foremost priority!

"Right... here..."

Seezed Momonga and balled his fists, before he saw Albedo tip her nose and suggest.

"Perhaps he forgot something. You have seen, how he likes to cloak himself in mystery."

_Forgot some- Perfect Unknowable!_

Washed the insight over him and he dismissed the spell, he had maintained all day and forgotten in a dim corner of his mind. Pandora's Actor jumped back like a scared chicken and cursed.

"Bei der eierlegenden Wollmichsau, wie konnte ich eure erhabene Gestalt nur übersehen, mein Gebieter!? Ich bitte tausendfach um Entschuldigung!" / by the egg laying wool-milk-sow, how could i not see your exalted form, my lord! i beg a thousand times for your forgiveness!

Momonga sighed, mostly at his own foolishness and truly forgave his creation.

"It's alright, P.A. . Even I rarely stray."

Instead of the snark he expected Albedo graciously doubted.

"That has still to be seen."

"Ich kann es mir auch kaum vorstellen, aber euer Wort ist natuerlich Gesetz, Meister Momonga." / i too can hardy imagine that, but your word is law, naturally, master Momonga.

"Anyway, I want you two to have some maids stand ready in the spa. I'm fairly certain Mare would like a thorough bath, once his pet spits him out again. Come afterwards with Cocytus to the treasury. I want to be prepared for getting our friends in Slane a suitable present."

"Sofort!" / at once!

Saluted Pandora's Actor and marched off for the entrance into the Tomb. Albedo also was about to set off, but Momonga held her back by her arm, till the doppelgaenger had left, and asked then.

"How come you saw me? Not just now, but also this morning?"

Her hand softly caressed his cheek, before following Pandora's Actor.

"You still have my blessing."

* * *

The ground crunched as he walked in the twilight through the remains.. The proud looking tin bust of his father had turned into formless slag, the picture of the 63- 'Always Free"- his tour's unit- had been reduced to the cinders of its frame, his carefully selected collection of books was now only a heap of wafting ash, but most importantly: the uniforms Dana and him had worn at their wedding had become a memory, where their bedroom used to be.

Everything material he once held dear was gone. Only the blackened skeleton of his home was left.

Nigun wished he had been right. He wished his fear would have come true and he had died, after holding Dana one last time. The rescue teams had called it a miracle of the gods, that he and Dana survived with almost no injury. They were wrong.

After the murder of Braesla he had resolved himself to his duty. He had found brief piece in the thought of reporting Ainz to the cardinals and await the monster's revenge together with his love. It was the only course his conscience allowed.

He could not let his people in the blind to the horror, that had set its eyes on them and he also could not bear the thought of sacrificing his deepest confident in the name of duty and live on, knowing she died because of his choice.

Cardinal Yvon Jasna Dracrowa, his superior, had not berated him for the loss of the Sunlight Scripture. She had listened with patience, as he recounted his experience, gave him time to collect himself, when it became too much and offered to pray together with him, if he wanted.

He declined.

He said he was not sure, if was ready to ask for the gods forgiveness and she also accepted that, accepted all his decision in the end.

Nigun had had no illusions, he would not be shadowed, when he told her, he would meet Ainz afterwards. He had no misconception, a hit squad would not follow them. He had only dreamed, he would fall with Dana in the crossfire, before the undead got hold of her.

And yet here he stood in the ash of his life.

Nigun sunk down on a fallen beam and stared out at the smoldering remains of his neighborhood. The brandy bottle in his hand felt heavy and he decided to change that.

It almost touched his lips, when noticed the smoke had stopped curling. He let it down again and forced out.

"Hello, Ainz."

He heard the nestle of fine velvet, the creak of charred wood as something massive sat down next to him and a voice, deep like a dry well, asked.

"No more 'Lord Gown'?"

"There are no lords worth that title in this world. You thought me that."

Answered Nigun.

"Yes."

Admitted it after while.

"I hoped to teach you a lot of things."

He did not honor it with a comment. He could do well without any more of its self-serving lessons.

"Sorry for the collateral on your home, my hand was forced."

"Liar."

_As always._

Puffed Nigun.

"And your career."

"That was not your decision."

"Maybe not."

"It was mine. I quit."

Clarified Nigun and took his first mouthful from the brandy. It was not good, not ripe, it only burned, where it touched.

"I will teach the aspirants."

"So a new direction, back to the starting line? Perhaps this will help."

Said Ainz and he heard a tingling sack drop.

"I will pass. Keep you false benedictions."

"Think of Dana. You will need a new home, furnishing and food, to keep the whale from munching-"

"Shut! Up!"

Snapped Nigun just short of roaring and the bottle's glass started to crack in his balling hand.

"Do not dare saying one more slander against Dana. You might have your succubus to serve you, but you know nothing of true affection, of love!"

"I-"

"The idea of trust, of letting yourself fall into the assurance of real confidence is something a walking falsehood like you can never know! I know myself, she is not an example of commonly agreed upon beauty, but there much more to love in her than any of your spit licking bimbo's!

Dana is true to heart, she has conviction, principles and courage, things you have not even found in yourself! For all your power you are just lonely fool, who will never fill the emptiness in its chest!

Go back and enjoy your sublime power alone. Go back and rot in your eternal desolation, you pitiful idiot!"

The smoke began to curl again and for the first time Nigun felt, like he had earned a victory against Ainz. The brandy tasted all at once wonderful, as he watched the rising sun through the hole in the city wall.


	10. The God Part I

God is an Idiot

 

Momonga watched the minuscule movements of the green dots above him. An ethereal world globe of pale white lines seemed to have partially descended through the ceiling of Nazarick's throne room, for its entirety would have been several times as large as an air balloon. Even the fantastic expanses of the tombs architecture could not have fitted its whole form, but it did not have to.

 

For now he was only interested in the small solid angle of the whole sphere, that represented the Slane Theocracy and the surrounding nations. The green dots represented the armed forces of the humans; each one a single soul unaware of the undead that had been monitoring them. In their Hundred Thousands they formed uneven smears on the map, teeming like ant swarms.

 

Their majority were stationed around Humanitas, with smaller blobs scattered around the Theocracy and even some minuscule groups operating in the neighboring nations of Baharuth and Re-Estize, but the mass was finally in coherent motion. Troops were being withdrawn from their posts and slowly congregated near the capital and the north-western border, while most of the units in foreign lands retreated to their home, except for a small number, that moved straight west across the empire and kingdom.

 

Momonga was pleased with the development and moved his focus hundreds of kilometers south of Humanitas to the largest, crescent shaped lake on the map, where the second largest smear of green remained. Spanning almost 300 kilometers from tip to tip it could very well be considered a within sea in its own right. The soldiers of Slane had blocked off access to its north facing outer curvature in a solid green line, that contained a slightly fainter concentration of orange dots; the forces of the elf country.

 

While he could see clear patterns in the greens that played out like an kaleidoscopic dance, the orange one seemed to move at random, brushing like flies against the human window glass, before retreating back to the safety of the swarms inner parts. Almost like they lacked a central command, which was at odds with what Momonga had learned of the elves political structure. Elf country was supposed to be reigned by a king, that had been in power for centuries. So why did they act so chaotically?

 

All the same, in a matter of hours it would hopefully not matter anymore.

 

Setting up the whole system had taken weeks of considering the most suited servants of Nazarick, picking gear from the treasury for them that was available in sufficient numbers and quality, and finally getting them all in position. Throwing up an Old Guard or Death Knight into low orbit and handing them a binocular, a water tank and gun for course correction was easy enough, but it would take weeks, before all his summoned eyeball corpses reached geostationary orbit, which was why they did not yet cover the whole globe.

 

While Momonga had written the code for the [Omniscience]-System that channeled together all the information flows, following the movements of Slane humans and elves in such detail would not have been possible, if not for the work of Aura and Demiurge. The ranger girl had secretly abducted hundreds of test subjects no one would likely miss from Slane, Re-Estize and Baharuth, till the devil found distinct markers in their blood. The Theocracy's centuries spanning eugenic program had actually helped a lot in that regard, according to Demiurge.

 

Despite the Ends initial worry, he had actually enjoyed working with the fiend. His creator Ulbert Alain Odle might have been in his paling memories a chuunibyou, but the fiend proved in his opinion to be one of the soundest minds he ever met. He not only possessed a frighteningly sharp analytical mind, but also refreshing wit and humor. Together they would discuss the merits of new ideas, defensive tactics for the tomb or even laugh at the occasional silly antic. At one time Demiurge blew up an ileum like a balloon and formed a figure from it. They debated for minutes, if it resembled more a wiener dog or a weasel, till Demiurge settled the topic by asking its owner on his opinion. They settled for a hot dog.

 

_Still don't know, what we would gain from creating a human-elf-dwarf-duodenopede, though. Sometimes his creativity just goes overboard._

 

_Anway, he deserves a commendation for his excellent work._

 

Momonga looked down from the hologram to praise the devil among the gathered Guardians.

 

“Demiurge, once again I have to...

 

...have...to...”

 

_What the hell?_

 

Momonga fumbled with the words as he beheld the party in front of the [Throne of Kings]. Demiurge growled on a literally burning stage to hard Rock music; Seus Chef, the fungoid bar tender, was wading through the crowd of monsters with tablets full of drinks; Cocytus bisected with his halberd in just that moment a dragon shaped pinata and showered three elder liches, Shalltear and the elven twins in red candy and Scores of maids helped themselves to the ridiculous amounts of food on the long tables, that had been placed between the columns.

 

“Did I miss something?”

 

Wondered Momonga where all of the sudden the festivities had sprung up from. He had just summoned the Guardians and Pleiades to check up on their preparations for storming the elf country, before looking up at the map for a moment.

 

“How? I looked away for only a second and suddenly Nazarick's sanctum turned into a mad house? How can that be?”

 

Then a frightening thought rushed through his head.

 

_Wait, could I have become victim of a time stop? That would be the only sensible explanation! But I should be immune to that kind of shenanigans. That's my game! What is happening!_

 

“Albedo-”

 

Asked he and looked to his side. He stopped again mid-sentence, when the guardian overseerblinked back with something that resembled an especially thick maggot poking from her mouth. She bade him to wait one moment with a raised finger and and pulled it out, instead of eating the invertebrate.

 

It did not turn out to be a giant insect but a peeled off banana. Not a cut, all of it.

 

_Was she going to swallow that thing in its whole? How did she not gag?_

 

“My Lord, you are back with us at last. I was getting worried.”

 

Said Albedo with a warm smile, playing with the slick fruit in her hand.

 

“What do you mean 'back with us'? I just briefly checked the troop movements and the next moment I see you partying like you all got nothing better to do.”

 

Stated Momonga quite aware of the annoyance, that lurked in the accusation. Instead of embarrassment, perplexity formed her features and she raised once more a single brow when defending herself.

 

“Lord Momonga, You have been looking at the map for nearly a week.”

 

_A week? A week?!?_

 

She continued, before he could give his outrage words.

 

“Of course we know that a supreme being as you must have an unfathomable different approach to time than to us servants, but please keep our limitation in mind in the future. We only thought we should use the chance of celebrating your stay with us, while we had no other orders.”

 

The statement was a shock. The noise of the frolicking monsters and loud music turned almost mute while he tried to grasp her words. How could he just have missed a whole week without noticing? Although he had felt his own psych change since arriving in the New World; he had lost his last inhibitions concerning mortal life and slowly felt the memories of his old human days harder and harder to remember; he thought the lack of human needs were the only other changes his soul experienced.

 

But this...

 

Was he really turning more and more into the undead magic caster, an ageless monster, he once only played? Was also his experience of time slowly changing?

 

_Just what is happening to me?_ _Who will I be in another month? In a year? In a Thousand years?_

 

The warm feeling of Albedo's hand on his pulled him back to the there and now, and he was glad for it. Before he could lose himself in her sympathetic smile, she cleared her throat and looked away to inhabitants of Nazarick, that still failed to notice their master's returned attention.

 

“SHUT UP, YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOTS BEFORE I SEW YOU MOUTHS TO YOUR OWN ASSES!”

 

Roared Albedo louder than a firing artillery battery and Momonga could have sworn the very light fled from the terrifying demonic voice that spilled from her throat. Everyone; the guardians, the serfs and the End; knew instinctively it was no hollow threat or even just an allegory, and froze, before dropping whatever they held at the moment and rushing to the throne.

 

Once everyone had assembled on their knees; the guardians at the front with the lesser servants behind them; she turned back with a friendly expression. She softly squeezed his hand one more time before letting go of it and licking on her banana like some lollipop,leaving it to him to address them.

 

_Is that fury always lurking beneath that sweet smile?_

 

Wondered Momonga briefly, before he spoke.

 

“Where was I? Ah yes, our preparations for storming the elves' holds.”

 

_Please be happy about the party and just forget the autism of your boss!_

 

He hoped the guardians would cross off the missed time as Albedo had done. Fortunately no one present seemed to mind or dare voice concern at his lapse or maybe they were still too occupied with Albedos's threat, for Mare seemed far paler than most days and covered his mouth like it was about to drop off.

 

“Cocytus,”

 

Continued Momonga acting, like nothing noteworthy had happened.

 

“Have you double checked the items I requested? I'll have to count on you to watch my back and everyone else be able to fulfill their designated roles professionally.”

 

The four armed verminlord stomped his halberd and reported.

 

“I. have. Equipped. The. [Ring of Poison Immunity]. and. the. [Burning Pit Amulet]. as. Commanded. and. distributed, the, [Message]-scrolls. in. sufficient. numbers. to. assure. no. operator. will. be. lost. to. chain. of. command.”

 

“What about health and mana potions?”

 

Inquired Momonga further and leaned forward on the throne, while fixing the ice warrior. Cocytus did not budge under his probing stare and answered without hesitating.

 

“Everyone. received. further. potions. should. their. base. stock. Run. out.”

 

“[Bells of Trap Detection]?”

 

“Handed. to. Homunculi. Maids. in. command. position. and. supplemented. with. another. scroll. of. [Find Traps]. for. everyone. else.”

 

Momonga would have liked to use the Pleiades, foremost among them Narberal Gamma, the Doppelgaenger, and the Shoggoth Solution Epsilon, but they had been deployed on the northern borders of Re-Estize to watch and react to possible moves of the Dragon Lords ruled Argland Council States. The rest of them; Lupusregina Beta, CZ2128 Delta, Yuri Alpha and Entoma Vasilissa Zeta, were either also deployed in watch roles or just unsuited in his opinion. There was nothing to be done about it and he questioned further.

 

“[Talismans of Fake Life] ?”

 

“Personally. checked. by. me. if. truly. donned.”

 

“[Rings of Lesser Charisma]?

 

“Working. without. exception.”

 

“[Gloves of the Trojan Prince]?”

 

“Handed. out. in. bundles.”

 

He felt almost bad for putting Cocytus's diligence to the test, but he had to be sure they were prepared for any situation, so he continued picking at random items from the list he had Pandora's Actor prepare.

 

“[Van Hel-Spike's insidious Candy]?”

 

Inquired Momonga, yet it was not Cocytus who answered this time, but Aura, barely understandable.

 

“Yesh! More, pleash, 'ord Momong'A.”

 

Seeing the chewing girl almost choke on the words he was glad for her high poison and disease resistance and decided he had probed the warrior enough.

 

“I see. Well done, Cocytus, you proved to me I was right in handing you the task of preparing our forces and,”

 

The End threw another glance at Aura.

 

“Everyone seems to be in high spirit for the coming hours. And with a full belly, too.”

 

“Yes we are!”

 

Called out an enthusiastic male throat from the back ranks and a heavily muscled arm shot up with it. Had Momonga still had eye lids he would have blinked in disbelief at the source. It had been an incredibly ripped, blonde man in maids clothing, hiding between the Homunculi Maids and he was not alone. Only now did Momonga notice that half the serfs were similar muscled and arguably 'beautiful' men.

 

And every single one of them wore a maid outfit like the female homunculi serfs. Momonga needed a few seconds, before he was ready to ask.

 

“And who are you?”

 

“Homunculus Maid Foire, always ready to serve, Lord Momonga!”

 

Answered he at once with a devotion that hinted unmistakably he _would_ serve him in any way he desired. Momonga felt a cold shower race down his spine at the expression, but he retorted in good sport, or tried to anyway.

 

“I see. I did not know my friend _Whitebrim_ also created _male_ Homunculi Maids.”

 

_Which is strange, since the obsessed nerd always went on about how “maid uniforms are justice!” and took absurd pride in showing us his creations. Oh well, maybe I was just too annoyed at the time to notice. It wasn't like I ever paid them much attention before._

 

“Oh no, Lord Momonga, he didn't...”

 

_Eh?_

 

“...it was Lady Neuronist Painkill that operated me into this new, beautiful form!”

 

“And who's brilliant idea was that?”

 

Sighed Momonga. Did he really want to know?

 

“That was mine, my Lord.”

 

Answered Demiurge instead. The Devil rose and bowed gracefully, and then elaborated, evidently pleased with himself.

 

“While you were studying the cattle's-”

 

“Humans.”

 

Corrected him Momonga. He disliked imprecise language when it came to plans and explanations

 

“-the human's actions, Guardian Overseer Albedo and I had a discussion about your plan of using the Homunculi Maids as a diversion for the troops. Of course we could only applaud your ingenious idea of using their beauty as another potent weapon to exploit the primates' primitive instincts. Although I myself cannot truly grasp the idea of neglecting my honoring service to you to satisfy such selfish needs as procreation...”

 

“Uh hu.”

 

Groaned Momonga, while massaging his skull.

 

“...attempting to dissect your scheme proved illuminating. Truly, seeing you play the minds of inferior beings as an musician can only wish to master his instrument fills me with even more awe, every time I witness it.”

 

“Mm-mh”

 

Murmured the End in a half hearted attempt to appear invested. By now he was way past the point of getting excited over anything Nazarick could throw at him and felt more like an impotent passenger in a roller-coaster of insanity. Demiurge showed no sign of feeling offended and spoke merrily on.

 

“But your unfathomable insight is even more inspiring, when I noticed how you also played us loyal slaves for our own betterment. I admit I was at loss, when I first foolishly thought you had lost yourself in contemplation, but then an joyous epiphany filled me.

 

You had not lost track of time, you were waiting! Waiting for me to futilely ape your intellect and do the work required for your plan an superior being should not be bothered with. I knew you intended to use the maids to appeal to the humans' base needs, but talking to Albedo I finally noticed that she is a woman!”

 

Glancing briefly at the smug looking female Momonga agreed laconically.

 

“Yes. How could one miss that.”

 

Demiurge nodded eagerly along and proceeded, while rubbing his hands.

 

“And half of the Slane troops are women.”

 

“As one should expect of a semi-monogamous species.”

 

Deadpanned Momomga.

 

“Right, right! So I asked myself: 'why would Lord Momonga only send the Homunculi Maids?' . The answer was as simple as it was natural. You must have expected me to cover that handicap!”

 

_Handicap?_

 

“I choose at once half of them to be brought to Neuronist Painkill, so she could adapt their bodies to better appeal to the female soldiers' loins. Guardian Overseer Albedo could not find fault in my logic and gave her approval to proceed.”

 

Once again Momonga glanced at Albedo, whom did not appear to have been bothered by any kind of shame.

 

“Did she...”

 

“Yes. I acted at once and handed them also afterwards literature on commonly expected male human behavior to study to complete the transformation!”

 

Momonga had no words, he could only stare at the tail wiggling devil, as him stared hopefully back.

He looked like an expectant puppy, waiting for a treat and Momonga would have liked nothing more, than to kick it.

 

“Demiurge...”

 

Began Momonga slowly.

 

“Yes?”

 

Stood Demiurge ready to receive his praise.

 

“Without a doubt you are Nazarick's finest analyst, a scientific genius and one of my greatest assets. And your are moron.”

 

The giddy expectation of Demiurge, the hope for his master's approval, the pure miss-placed bliss was crushed under the horror that assailed him, when receiving Momonga's judgment. His tail dropped like a limp hose and he fell to his knees with sagging arms, while he stared forlorn at his Lord.

 

“But... but you said 'they will appeal to their needs', 'the humans will be utterly enthralled by their charm and they will grovel and abase themselves to earn their goodwill.'.”

 

“Just like you have been groveling before me.”

 

_Just like you are still abasing yourself before me._

 

Stated Momonga. His words did not sound angry, because he was not. They sounded annoyed. They were hard and open about his frustration.

 

“For all your formidable intellect...”

 

Went Momonga uncaring for the devil's utter dismay on.

 

“... you are still an arrogant child. What did you see in them, those _pitiful humans_? Inconsequential beings? Witless playthings? Primitive beasts?”

 

“I... But are they not?”

 

Appealed Demiurge to him as Momonga rose from his throne to loom over him.

 

“Oh they are, just like you are. As we all are.”

 

Spoke Momonga coldly and pointed his finger at him.

 

“You laugh at their failings in conscience of your own power, while you are no better than them. Those _pitiful humans_ look for guidance and purpose, for reason that I will conveniently give them, just as I gave it you.”

 

The last blood drained from Demiurge face as he crumbled under Momonga's suffocating presence. The End knew he no longer held his full [Aura of Despair] back; he saw the other guardians and servants struggle just as much as the target of his ire; and he did not care. Shalltear visibly trembled, Cocytus managed only ragged breaths of condensated air and the maids and other serves collapsed without exception, just like Mare. His sweat stained sister held on to him before he could hit the floor, while straining to not faint herself.

 

“When will you accept that only scale and cosmetics differentiate the mortals from you, Demiurge? I've seen wickedness in them that would make you shudder; seen them wield power you can't even imagine, and die in their Millions for a causes, no outsider could comprehend anymore after the blood had dried.”

 

His claw almost touched the devil's forehead as he asked in an almost whisper.

 

“Tell me: How would I appeal to you, Demiurge, Creator of the Blazing Inferno, Defensive Combat Leader of Nazarick, _Guardian_?”

 

Demiurge may have drowned in cold sweat, he may have shivered and his lips trembled, but he did not flee or back away from Momonga's probe. One of the maids on the ground began cramping with her whole body with foam bubbling from her mouth, before she suddenly stopped, and one of the downed liches spontaneously burst into dust, but Demiurge held his masters gaze as good as his own obvious panic allowed and eventually he answered.

 

“You would fan my pride.”

 

“Yes...”

 

Hissed Momonga.

 

“You would point me to a goal.”

 

“And?”

 

“And you would goad my hope for your love.”

 

_Finally you begin to understand, you poor devil._

 

Thought Momonga and let his finger slowly drop. At last he started to pull back his dreadful aura, hold his breath of entropy and the present denizens of Nazarick visibly sighed in relief.

 

Aura started to lightly slap her brother, till he awoke with addled eyes; Cocytus put a sympathetic paw on Shalltear's back and the surviving Elder Liches began waking up the unconscious Maids with [Minimized Jolt] spells.

 

Demiurge on the other hand was still transfixed by Momonga, as the End hissed for his ears only.

 

“Rain in your haughtiness, my shrewd friend, and you will not only stay a master of the stick, but also become an artist with the carrot. Your logic wasn't at fault, only your scope and empathy too limited.

 

Now rise, we still have much to do. ”

 

The devil obeyed with little tears leaking from behind his glasses and lightly bowed. It looked like it cost him immense strength, but his voice was again firm and collected as he said.

 

“Thank you, my Lord. You humble me, just as you teach me with your own fundamental insight. Again, my deepest gratitude for reining in my hubris.”

 

“Never think to highly of yourself to consider another's perspective and similarity.”

 

Gave Momonga his last advice and turned back to the other servants. The Guardians had shaken off the worst of his relaxation, but the remaining two elder lichs stood at loss over their comrades remains and the Maids futilely tried waking their fallen sister. They all parted to make room for Momonga and went down to their knees, as he walked over to them and inspected the two casualties.

 

_Well, I should scrounge at least something from this mess. [Create Low Tier Undead]._

 

As he pointed his hand at the Maid's corpse he saw the black runes eat into her flesh, dissolve it into their simplest components and slowly built it up again into the gaunt form of a wasted corpse in a dark hood. Finally two tiny flames ignited in its eye holes and the runes paled into nothingness. The new Elder Lich sighed in exhilaration and bowed before his creator.

 

“I exist to serve, Master Momonga. What shall be my name?”

 

“Your name?”

 

_I had not thought of that._

 

Instead of bothering with brainstorming for a fitting name Momonga turned to the maids and asked.

 

“Hey, what used to be her name?”

 

“Etoile, great Lord.”

 

Managed a scared maid to mumble.

 

“Etoile, eh? Okay, I've got a name that should fit.”

 

Said Momonga and turned back to the undead who waited still bowing.

 

“Your name shall be Trou Noir.”

 

The Lich bowed even deeper to proudly disclaim.

 

“So it will be. Trou Noir stands ready to serve for all eternity and beyond, should you-”

 

“Yes, yes, just get over to Demiurge with your siblings and let him instruct you in the use of [Omniscience].”

 

Ignored him his creator already and stalked over to the guardians. Mare still looked pale, but his sister no longer needed to support him and while Cocytus bug face was unreadable as ever, Shalltear's expression was foremost lewd and blissful, like she was the only one, who had just enjoyed the whole scene.

 

Momonga reached into his inventory space and pulled a small item from it that resembled a chrome colored sea urchin with golden tips that moved at random and six octopus like eyes spread evenly over its surface.

 

“This is a [Phlegmatic Hedgehog].”

 

Explained the End and the guardians moved closer to inspect the strange item. While Aura probed one of its quickly retracting spines he elaborated further.

 

“It is a rare one-use-item than can absorb a single attack and slowly release its energy over the time span of one day. They were too rare in Yggdrasil to base a consistent strategy around it, but it will be quite useful in the coming hours. When I tell you to, Shalltear, you will cast [Brilliant Radiance] upon it. Spread over 24 hours none here should take any real damage from the [Holy] spell's effect, besides some uncomfortable itch.

 

Afterwards, you will stand ready along with Mare and Aura to extract a Maid, should their situation turn sour. I regret the loss of one of our serves, but there will be time later to create a replacement for her. I am certain, we'll find some loot on our the trip we can spare to invest.

 

_I could have used a rod of resurrection for her, but they are exorbitant expensive and would as well work on a high level serve. It's just more economical to create a new maid._

 

“Lord Momonga?”

 

Asked Aura while still gawking at the twitching item in his hand.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Acknowledge he her.

 

“Why do we do it this way? If you are concerned about the Elf King then why not invade the elf country with all Guardians at your side. Surely he couldn't stand against our combined power plus a Supreme Being.”

 

“That is correct, girl, and by the same logic I simply could take anything I desired from the Theocracy by force.”

 

Agreed Momonga and moved his hand in slow circles, as the Guardians' eyes were glued to the item.

 

“Aha”

 

Nodded Aura absently.

 

“And then you also wouldn't have to deal with that whiny human, you know. Just let him kick the bucket or hand him to Neuronist Painkill with no risk of him telling the cardinals anything he shouldn't.”

 

“Hmm. That is one idea. Tell me, Aura, if I told you hunt beast in a vast savanna, how would you proceed?”

 

Asked Momonga in turn while the girl took turns blinking with one of the item's eyes.

 

“I would activate [Sky Eye] and my superior senses to sniff them out, maybe sic some of my own beasts on them. I could use a lot of skills for such an easy task.”

 

“And if you had no skills and no pets; if you didn't know what beasts lurked in the grass, didn't know how dangerous they were?”

 

“I would ask Mare for help or another Guardian, of course.”

 

“And if you were all alone, with no one else to count upon?”

 

“Hmmm...”

 

Began Aura to think.

 

_[Minimized Fireball]_

 

A small explosion went off behind the Guardians, certainly not strong enough to even scratch them, but still everyone turned instantly around to the quickly fading flames and smoke. Momonga's proposal caught their attention again as he suggested.

 

“I would stay at the edge and set the grass on fire.”

 

Shalltear was the first to giggle and the twins looked confused back and forth between the two undead, till Cocytus spoke.

 

“Setting. the. whole. savanna. on. fire. would. force. any. beast. in. it. to. aove. and. reveal. itself. They. would. fly. to. the. sky, dive. into. the. river. or. run. for. the. edge, too. scared. of. what. is. happening. to. their. home. to. think. of. what. could. be. lurking. at. the. edge.”

 

Finally Aura understood and she finished.

 

“I wouldn't search for the dangerous beasts, I would let them reveal themselves in the chaos.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Confirmed Momonga.

 

“And what do you plan with the priest?”

 

Wanted Mare to know.

 

Instead of answering, Momonga ruffled the blushing boys head and asked.

 

“Tell me, boy, how would your creator Bukubukuchagama react, if she still was here, should you and your sister fight in earnest, to the death?”

 

“She would never allow that! Lady Bukubukuchagama is way too kind to allow that! She would storm between us and scold us for such silliness!”

 

Spoke the boy with unshakable conviction.

 

“I am sure of it.”

 

Agreed Momonga again with a twin who didn't quite understand. He was about to ask

 

“But what does it have to do...”

 

when Shalltear's fine boned hand on his shoulder stopped him and she offered him with a head shake.

 

“I will explain it to you later, Mare. We have bothered Lord Momonga enough for now.”

 

The elf lad was still at loss when Momonga turned away and headed for the center of the room, but he did not miss the cold look Aura directed at him after his question. He concluded that very idea of truly warring with her brother must have been painful to her, abhorrent even.

 

_How absurd. Would I ask her to she would slaughter whole armies without second thought, but this simple, theoretical scenario hurts her feelings? She really is still a child._

 

_Oh well, what does it matter? I have a kingdom to topple._

 

“Demiurge, ready the [Omniscience]-system! Maids, Shalltear, come over here!”

 

Called out Momonga and noted, how everyone had shaken off the ruckus of the past moments and went to work. While the girls and men ran to him, Demiurge and the Elder Liches went before the Throne.

 

White lines formed on the ground and cut the stone into shards. Demon and undead let themselves fall into the raising tiles that formed sun chair like thrones under them, taking them closer to the map above, meanwhile half spheres of light formed around their heads. While Momonga placed the [Phlegmatic Hedhodge] in the Middle of the room, they reported the system's status.

 

“Old Guard # 17 reporting in, Old Guard # 13 reporting in, Old Guard # 8 reporting in...” - “Old Guard # 18 course corrected, Old Guard #31 reporting drift, calculating correction...” - “Eyeball Corpse # 2 moving into stationary orbit; Compensating for atmospheric error, elf country still occluded from vision as before...”

 

The map became rapidly more detailed as gray-white mountains, dark cliffs, green forests and pastel plains with majestic cloud formations flowing over them, spread under the buzzing dots, but the area under the orange ones stayed without detail, while the edge of the blank zone turned black with countless sources of black smoke.

 

“[Omniscience]-System a 100 % operational, Lord Momonga.” reported at last Demiurge and Momonga turned pleased to serves.

 

“Take of your cloths and form a ring with Shalltear around the item, facing outwards!”

 

Not one hesitated even a second to stripping their precious uniforms and taking position next to the vampire, while Albedo and Cocytus walked to his side.

 

“Albedo, I entrust the safety of Nazarick and command of the Pleiades to you, while Demiurge monitors the intelligence feeds.”

 

She answered with a modest bowed and he turned to the ice warrior.

 

“Ready, Cocytus?”

 

A mace and a katana falling into his lower arms in addition to the halberd were his response.

 

Finally he addressed the Guardian of the first floors.

 

“Shalltear, do it!”

 

“[Brilliant Radiance]!”

 

Called out the eternal teen and a scintillating bolt shot forth from her hand into the [Phlegmatic Hedgehog], that began to fill the whole room with warm, blinding light, so every one present became little more than shadowy outlines.

 

_[Gate], [Gate], [Gate]..._

 

Started Momonga repeatedly to cast as he reminded everyone a last time.

 

“Remember, people, our goal is not to wantonly slaughter humans and elf's. I don't care, if you have to break a few hundred necks in self defence or to guard Nazarick's secrecy, but pointless murder will draw my wrath upon you!

 

Tell your audience whatever will make them happy and listen, just do NOT reveal Nazarick or any names. Your goal is a good show, one that will brun itself into the humans' hearts, nothing more, nothing less!

 

Go now and make your lord proud!”

 

One after another the Maids' shadows vanished into the portals. Eventually Demiurge's voice resonated from above.

 

“Everyone has reached their target. No distress signal yet.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

Congratulated Momonga as Shalltear placed an overturned pot over the [Phlegmatic Hedgehog] and the light vanished instantly.

 

“Your will be done, Lord Momonga.”

 

Wished Albedo as he stepped after Cocytus into the last remaining portal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. The God Part II

God is an Idiot

 

Just one step through the [Gate] and he sank almost ankle deep into mud. Momonga had arrived in an earth crater with walls rising almost 3 meters above and the thick black smoke waving above allowed only spare glimpses at the blue sky. The air stank like an over-chlorinated pool mixed with rotten flesh and he would have surely retched, had he still been human.

 

Cocytus, a few meters apart, didn't seem fazed. Neither did he sink into the ground; he stood on tiny frozen patches just barely wider than his feet, nor gave he any impression of resenting the aroma. In fact he breathed deep of the disgusting air and almost cheered.

 

“I have. not. seen. yet. the. humans. fight, but. I. can. already. tell. they. are. not. children. fiddling. with. sticks. The. atmosphere. is. choked. with. the. uncompromising. will. to. win, no. matter. the. costs.”

 

“Don't lose yourself in your fandom for war, Cocytus. We are here for a reason, not to sightsee brawling toddlers.”

 

“Yes, we. came. to. claim. the. elf king's. head.”

 

“While minimizing the elves' casualties.”

 

Reminded him Momonga and climbed up the slope till he could just peek over the edge. He saw only ruin. All the way to the horizon the landscape was nothing but upturned earth pockmarked by craters, the occasional remains of splintered trees and the even sprinkle of lacerated corpses no one had bothered or cared to retrieve. Some wore the remains of green and brown speckled uniforms, while others had tatters of dirty pelts clinging to them, as far as he could tell with the black carpets of flies covering them.

 

Momonga moved carefully around the edge while Cocytus spoke from below.

 

“As. you. wish, Lord. But. I still. do. not. understand. why. you. want. to. spare. the. elves. from. your. wrath.”

 

“I have no wrath in me, Cocytus.”

 

Responded Momonga as he studied the flat sand bag wall with the barbed wire crown a few Hundred meters to the north.

 

“I am perfectly at ease, like a buddha. As for the elves: They are far to valuable to simply massacre the lot of them. I knew that since I inspected their first cadaver.”

 

Before he could identify the movement behind the wire a thick screen of smoke waved over and blocked his view.

 

“You. wish. to. use. them. as. slaves, Lord? Could. they. be. really. such. formidable. warriors?”

 

Momonga looked momentarily back to the bug.

 

“As far as a pig is slave to its owner. No, the Old Guard serve me well enough in that capacity. The elves are literally cattle of the highest quality. Aura found she could carve excellent magical ammunition from their bones at minimal costs, Mare said he could use their blood to enhance various druidic rituals and Demiurge is thrilled about the flesh crafting he could do with them. Seriously, you should go to the 7th floor and see the amoeba golem he made from their muscles and organs. And the best part is their skin: We can use it to create up to tier 5 scrolls with minimal investments, or even tier 6 for enchantments. Their is basically nothing on an elf that is not useful. It's almost like they were intended to be animals for slaughter!”

 

Enthused he.

 

“But. a. pig. does. not. need. a. 140. years. to. reach. maturity. or. asks. where. all. the. other. pigs. have. gone.”

 

Objected Cocytus.

 

“Oh come on, big boy, don't you think I have thought of that? Demiurge is already researching ways to shorten their reproductive cycle and increase the size of their litters and a little lack of air right after birth should solve the pesky intellect problem. Besides, I don't need fully grown specimen. They grow relatively fast in the first years, after all.”

 

Brushed off Momonga the argument and turned back, just in time to catch a bolt that would have shattered against his head. He saw a lens briefly flash between the wire and quickly duck down again.

 

_We should get moving before Cocytus reminds me no to idle._

 

“Anyway, equip the com aid I made, link up with Demiurge and let's go. No point in provoking a reaction from the humans.”

 

Said he as he slid down the slope. Cocytus complied with a nod and reached into his personal inventory to pull out a set of of pilot shades that covered his front set of eyes while leaving his peripheral vision free.

 

“Ice-Tea. reporting. in.”

 

“Cock-Zero reporting in. Dr. Pepper, do you receive?”

 

Mimicked him Momonga with his own set of glasses and promptly heard Demiurge's answer in his head.

 

“ _I hear you loud and clear, Cock-Zero. Linking you up to [Omniscience] now.”_

 

A mini map appeared in the corner of Momomga's glasses, turning as he moved and zooming in and out as he desired with only a thought needed. Right next to him was a red cross representing Cocytus and further away hundreds of lazy blue ones behind the overhead view of the humans' trenches. Two blue dots raced over them on the map and as Momonga looked up the system marked behind the smoke a kilometer above the outline of two humans apparently riding some kind of occluded creature.

 

“ _Please keep in mind I will only be able to provide limited layout information once you have entered the elven blank zone.”_

 

“Understood, Dr. Pepper, just keep updating the map with the glasses' perception and notify us of any noteworthy developments.”

 

Finished the End the report and looked to Cocytus.

 

“You ready?”

 

Cocytus was facing in the direction of the trenches, ever so much turning his head like he was testing out the mini map himself. After a brief moment he spoke meekly, without matching his master's gaze.

 

“I. feel. stupid. wearing. those. things. and. the. code. name. rubs. me. the. wrong. way...”

 

“Nonsense.”

 

Denied Momonga and turned him with his hands on Cocytus' shoulders the opposite direction.

 

“You look great and should appreciate the name I chose for you! I put a lot of thought into it.”

 

“You. did?”

 

Asked Cocytus hopefully, looking down at him.

 

_Nope._

 

“Of course! Now cheer up and enjoy the ride.”

 

Lied Momonga without a second thought and a clap on the bugs blue carapace, before casting [Perfect Unknowable] and jumping on his shoulders. At once the magic covered also his improper mount and he commanded.

 

“Onward, my friend, to shatter realities and rape sanity!”

 

“At. once!”

 

Obeyed Cocytus with new determination and Momonga almost slipped off his shoulders on his first bound over the craters edge. He landed a Hundred meters further away and immediately stomped on at break-neck speed. The leafless tree-line was more than 3 kilometers away but the insectoid warrior kept relentlessly accelerating, pulverizing stones, bones and discarded armor without care.

  
As Demiurge had predicted the mini map lost ever more details of the terrain the closer they came to the tree line. Here and there he heard fainting screams of pain behind them as Cocytus crushed a not so dead casualties under the staccato beat of his pounding steps but Momonga's thoughts were entirely focused on what lay ahead.

 

The elf country had been the only place the [Omniscience]-system had not been able to map. Demiurge was already extrapolating possible terrain by the troop movements but he was aware those were only rough estimations. Who; or whatever; protected the forest and lake must had access to potent anti-scrying techniques that proved resistant even to Momonga's extensive collection of divination spells and items.

 

That in turn meant it was either a formidable native of the world or another high level immigrant from Yggdrasil, maybe even of comparable power to his own. Then why was the Theocracy slowly gaining ground on elf country? As far as he had seen or been able to draw information from the captain they had nothing in their arsenal that could truly threaten him and still they slowly won this war of attrition.

 

Momonga had concluded that the patron of the elves simply did not care about the human efforts. His comrade Punitto Moe would have advised for careful probing before entering enemy territory and then to cautiously advance, taking one rationally concluded steps after another and formulating a plan in detail to counter the enemies measures, and if that was not possible: avoid them.

 

The End could no longer agree with that notion. He had learned that it worked only so long as you could be sure of your own superior intelligence and intellect or had the chance to flee. But Momonga could not and would not log out of this world. There was no were to hide and simply bidding his time would turn him into a sitting duck instead. Also his ability for intelligence gathering had proven insufficient, so how was he to approach an obviously capable foe, whom's skills and abilities he had no way to gauge, whom was possible smarter and already took any logical attack approach into account?

 

By mad stupidity, of course. A genius might be able to counter any intricate plan he made, yet one can not outsmart pure chaos and irrationality. Maybe that had also been the approach of the elves' master to the Theocracy's carefully orchestrated maneuvers.

 

Cocytus had reached the dead trees in less than a minute and they saw the first tracks of wounded soldiers and carts on their way back from deeper in the forest, but still Momonga spurred him on.

 

“Don't let up. Hold the speed, just cut anything down that might slow you down! Our goal is the northern tip of the lakes curvature, where the swarm is thickest.”

 

His mount did just that and waltzed over the unsuspecting humans, smashed wagons aside with the flat of his halberd and cut down leafless scrub and brambles with his sword. Thankfully the airflow was strong enough to blow any residual meat and blood off them before it could really start to cake on.

 

Momonga absently wondered how the humans would rationalize the straight path Cocytus left when he saw the first arrow pass them. He quickly plucked it out the air and inspected its strange design. The tip resembled a skewed narrow pyramid that had been stuck on a thin bamboo stick. Its green fletching was made from the right elytrons of three large bugs so it would spin in flight. It resembled nothing he had seen or thought the humans would use.

 

He send the arrow back on its path like a dart and looked around. Soon his HUD outlined the form of several elves in the tree crowns above them and they were not alone. Great silver furred gibbon creatures with camel like heads held them between their grasping feet. While their sloth like fore limps lobbed the beasts from branch to branch the elves rained arrow after arrow into the convoy.

 

He did not get to see how the attack played out as Cocytus raced on through the dead forest. Sometimes he would trample the elven remains of a mass execution, other times he passed rotting totems of dead humans that looked like silvery branches had grown from their poles directly into the stumps of their arms and feet. He swore he saw one of them still look frantically around, despite of his eaten off face, and cry desperate gibberish to the sky.

 

They sped through the smoldering remains of the first elven village he had seen so far, little more than primitive stone foundations and coal now, when Demiurge called back.

 

“ _Cock-Zero, Ice-Tea, do you receive?”_

 

“We hear you, Dr. Pepper. What do you have?”

 

Answered Momonga as he watched teenagers in camouflage uniform chase and hack down a group of skinny elven children that tried to flee from a hideout in the ground.

 

“ _In another 15 kilometers you will reach the front of the current Slane push. Behind that you will enter the territory still claimed by elves, about a Hundred kilometers away from the shores of Crescent Lake. The maids have effectively crippled the humans' back-lines and have the support staff and higher command under their complete thrall. You do not have to expect any more human troops than what is already there.”_

 

“Noted. Any update on the elf king's location?”

 

“ _Nothing concrete. I could not identify any hot spot where the elves are gaining significant ground so I still advise for heading for the swarms center at the shore. To do that I suggest altering your course slightly to the east.”_

 

“Negativ. We will hold course and skim along the front before crossing it. I want to get an impression on how the foe fights in earnest.”

 

“ _As you wish, Cock-Zero. I will inform you when you have reached the front line area closest to the suggested destination. Cross from there directly through the push and hold the direction.”_

 

“You got that, Cocytus?”

 

“Aye.”

 

Was the verminlord's minimal reply while Demiurge cut the connection.

 

Cocytus kept running and destroying anything that might just slightly obstruct their path. On his shoulders flat hills turned into moments of weightlessness, small clearings into flashes of light and any life they encountered into warm gushes before swiftly drying off, all the while thunder and roars could be heard in the distance ahead.

 

The ever present chlorine stench became thicker with every kilometer they left behind and eventually Momonga saw at his side the first real platoons in their camouflage uniforms run in the same direction as Cocytus. On a whim he let his stretched hand rip the steel helmed head off of one of the humans they passed and inspected it. She blinked idiotically a few times back behind the glasses of her gas mask that made her look like a swine with a round box attached to its face's side. Momonga noted the simple but effective enchantment of [Fresh Air], a level one spell back in Yggdrasil, on it and once more silently applauded the humans' practical thinking before letting the girl's remains drop.

 

They had reached the true front.

 

They were heading for the back of Hundreds of humans cowering behind hastily piled up logs and sand bags, each one similarly clad in green and brown like the troops they just passed, as they duck from an incoming hail of arrows at the edge of a recently made clearing ahead of a rising slope. The trees had not been felled by ax or saw but by what appeared to have been heavy explosives as splinters of wood and still smoking craters covered all of the free space.

 

Beyond, sprinkled between the intact pale trees that rose from a silvery mist permeated with faint residual magic waited the braying elves. They wore no uniforms like the humans but an eclectic mix of leather and furs. Crude masks had been painted on their faces and those not pulling their bows roared wild challenges at the humans and drummed their spears, axes and scimitars against their wooden round shields.

 

Momonga thought they must have been a fearsome sight for the mortals on his side, shrouded as they were like ghosts in the mist that breathed from the elves held forest. Wiry muscled and tall they nocked and launched arrow after arrow without any sign of tiring while their comrades shook more of the pathetic living banners he had seen before.

 

Further to his right, behind a sturdy timber wall facing the clearing, he saw batteries of ballistas being made ready. Those attending men not drawing the weapon with a winch screwed together two equal sized cylinders with green and blue dots marking each.

 

“Turn left and spare the mortals this time. I want to see what they can do to each other.”

 

Said Momonga just before reaching the human line. Cocytus reacted at once and almost touched the ground as he leaned left and drifted with momentum countering steps, that threw up great gushes of dirt, into the new course.

 

The ballistas started to thud and just moments after the noise of explosions and a new wave of chlorine stench filled the air. All along the now revealed to be kilometers long front the cylinders rained down into the silver forest and erupted into great fireballs. At once some of humans; armed with hatchets and double sided harpoons on their back; rose, cast low level shields around the small squads accompanying them; almost exclusively [Mass Resistance to Arrows]; and charged together over the field while the greater rest of the men and women followed with spades and pickaxes.

 

_What are those crazy apes up to?_

 

Wondered Momonga as the pioneers all stopped in the middle of the field although their shielded comrades kept charging on with the occasional lone arrow or spear rebounding from their protection. While the assaults fell over the shell shocked elves with simple hatchets or volleys of smaller grenades like the ballistas had fired, the men on the field hacked frantically into earth; each group digging out a hole as fast as humanly possible.

 

Then the End saw the first human shields flicker and wisk out as new waves of thick mist rolled over the men from the hill's top. Bestial shrieks, like high strung bear roars , resounded from their depth and the combatants quickly placed another kind of cans on the ground, heedless of any elves they were fighting just seconds ago, even if it cost them their lives.

 

Thick red smoke started streaming from the cans while the first attackers took cover behind the trees from the new arrow hails falling from uphill. The shrieks came closer with every second and at last grotesque leviathans broke through the obscuring mist. The pale worm like monsters were almost 15 meters long and snaked through the earth like eels through the mud. Three alligator like maws with a central slit eye one each crushed and swallowed whole the men as the worms' heads snapped forth like overgrown vipers.

 

The humans reacted by throwing more grenades after the beasts and trying to dodge the bites by the last possible seconds, letting the maws spear themselves on the harpoons, often sacrificing whole limps just to incapacitate one of the creature, but it could only be a stalling tactic. The metallic blood pooling from their wounds coagulated in seconds into ugly silver colored scabs that spread even further over their bodies and proved far more resistant to the Slane's weapons than the already tough scales. More howling elves joined the close quarter combat like a mad horde and proved in single combat their superior reflexes and nimbleness no normal man or woman could ever match yet still the first human wave held on.

 

New volleys from the ballistas exploded further uphill, cutting off more possible reinforcements for the elves, but the wild knife ears and monsters would certainly be enough to also massacre the diggers in the field once they had finished off their first victims.

 

Before Momonga dismissed the battle as a complete loss for the Theocracy his HUD marked just shy of a Hundred pairs of human signatures nearing the battle at speeds far too high for any land based movement. As he looked up he saw giant mocking birds with antlers and deer hooves for claws sail a kilometer above while a lone figure jumped from each one of them and headed straight for the thick of the fight. Stranger still the jumpers wore primitive wing suits but also chain shirts over what appeared to be incredible thick gambesons.

 

For a second he thought they could have been elite troops meant to relieve the assault team. Then he noticed each one had some kind of deformity: a crippled leg here, a humpback there or snow white hair trailing behind them as they fell without making any attempt to slow down. The next moment they exploded in massive blasts, flattening the trees for a Dozen meters around and shredding everything else with shrapnel in several times that radius.

 

“HA HA HA HA HA!”

 

Could Momonga no longer hold to himself and clapped in exhilaration his mount's head.

 

“You were absolutely right! Ha Ha Ha! Those mad mongrels are really going all they way!”

 

“Even. counting. the. slain. beasts, the. humans. lost. double. what, they. claimed. in. elven. lives, Lord. Is. that. a. victory?”

 

Objected Cocytus and jumped over a group of ballistas that were pushed forward into the clearing. The pioneers meanwhile had begun bombing the mountain slope which the hill had become by now with grenades of their own they fired from large sling shots behind their improvised dirt walls. Small groups parted from them to the battle site to treat the survivors with healing spells and potions while the few surviving elves retreated for good. Here and there a worm still twitched but the battle was over.

 

“You are correct, of course, Cocytus. The humans paid indeed with more lives, but you are forgetting your own argument.”

 

“Which do you mean, Lord?”

 

Asked Cocytus as he glanced to the men excavating zig-zag connection trenches between their initial holes.

 

“They breed as they dig: like rats. A human's life is so much cheaper than an elf's and their leaders know that. It does not matter if it takes five men to slay one elf. At the end it is still an unacceptable loss for our future cattle.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Wheezed Cocytus only. Momonga could tell that his gleeful answer did not sit right with the insectoid warrior but he was not in the spirit to lecture him on focusing on the amusing absurdity of existence. In time he would learn on his own to look at the bright side of death.

 

Even if he had wanted to he would have been interrupted by Demiurge's call-in.

 

“ _Cock-Zero, Ice-Tea, you will reach in 600 meters the optimal crossing point. Turn hard right on my mark and follow the racing line I will sent in a moment to your HUD. It will avoid the densest elves cluster till you will reach the shore.”_

 

Said moment was not even a second before a white, broken line popped up ahead in Momonga's vision and described a right turn curve across the field into the forest's mist. Without hesitation Cocytus leaned into it like a walking motorcycle that narrowly dodged through the blind Slane as they they piled up their dead and fortified their new barbwire miles. In just ten human heartbeats he had left behind the battlefield and passed the first living trees since entering the elf country.

 

The Tens of meters tall plants were an even mix of conifers and deciduous trees yet all had the same silver shimmer on their barks and leaves as did the undergrowth, had the same arcane residue clinging to them Momonga had also noticed from afar in the mist.

 

As the clatter and noise of the humans faded behind them Momonga lost himself in the ride. Under normal circumstances his eyes could pierce the blackest night, notice minute changes in the clouds and consciously appreciate sun's journey across the the sky but here the magic infused mist acted like a wall, limiting his vision to no more than a few Dozens meters ahead, all the while Cocytus raced through the undergrowth at over 200 kilometers per hour.

 

Everything shimmered in the dispersed glow of the early afternoon sun, trees zipped by as smears of silver light and the only constant was Demiurge's virtual track that always seemingly lead into a white oblivion. Combined with Cocytus ridiculous fast but precise steps, the high pitch of the air flowing past and the natural creaks and calls of a wild forest it reminded him of nothing more than a psytrance track.

 

They had still a Hundred Kilometers through uncharted lands to cross and Momonga could not shake off the déjà vu of a high speed night trip on the autobahn, which was strange since Germany had been annihilated in the nuclear exchange of 2089 and he could not remember ever playing a racing simulator. Cars were not something anyone living in an arcology still a afforded in the 22nd century.

 

Absently bobbing his head and wriggling his shoulders to the natural beat of the trip Momonga watched the mini map and the orange dots flowing over it as he and Cocytus flew over the land. He felt slight bumps whenever the bug ran over a creature; often enough so to constitute a deeper and slower beat along his pushing steps; and the End shook one fist synchronously with the 'music' while the fingers of his other hand tapped off in the air the dots as they reached the mini map's lower edge.

 

For the first time in his life Momonga understood why people loved to pilgrim to night clubs, enjoyed life threatening sports and fantasized over high-powered engines. It was a thrilling rush and he shut off his vision; he had no eye lids after all; to let his fantasy fill the last gaps and perfect the music in his mind that would forever brand itself into his memory.

 

“Lord Momonga, the track has ended.”

 

“I can hear it just fine, Cocytus.”

 

Hummed Momonga and relished how the 'bass' intensified.

 

“But I can not see it anymore.”

 

_Eh, what?_

 

Wondered the End briefly before he felt a massive bump that could not have been wanted by his mount. His eyes lit up again and he saw no virtual road anymore or anything else of the HUD.

 

Cocytus must have been running blind, too as trees and rocks randomly shot at them from the mist even his formidable reflexes had a hard time reacting to all of them.

 

“Slow down, Cocytus! Dr. Pepper, what's going on!?”

 

Yelled Momonga at both his servants. Cocytus obeyed as good as he could but he still had to dodge dozens of rapidly nearing objects while finding hardly any traction on the loose ground and Demiurge did not answer.

 

“Dr. Pepper, do you receive?”

 

Yelled Momonga again. Before he could wonder why he got no answer an arrow passed by his face by a hand's width, followed by five others he had to avoid by leaning his head left and right. Then Cocytus slipped on an elf he crushed under his clawed foot. He tumbled forward but held onto Momonga's legs with his lower pair of arms. The Vermin Lord pushed them with his free upper arm off the ground in another controlled tumble before they could hit it face first.

 

What worried Momonga was not the near crash but the remaining five elves they had just stumbled through, that had started to turn around before fading in the mist behind the two heteromorphs. Cocytus landed stumbling, but still running on, on his feet again and tried to smash as controlled as possible with his steps through any object that might provide resistance without sending them flying again.

 

Meanwhile Momonga tried contacting Nazarick with [Message] but the spell always denied any recipient he tried to call as not available so he cast [Perfect Spell Mark]; one of Yggdrasil's most thorough magic detection casts; yet it too found no countering magic affecting them. [See Arcane] and [Sense Magic] also came up with nothing.

 

All that was there was mist with its paling magical residue that had not even enough inherent magic or coherent code to fuel a tier one spell, let alone counter the [Omniscience]-system.

 

_What effect is this? The same that blocked the Eyeball Corpses' vision? But it worked just fine a minute ago and I can't sense anything with my own arcane sense. Think Momonga, think!_

 

Raced the End's thoughts.

 

Ahead of them a flock of tiny birds took to the sky from the undergrowth and splattered against his and Cocytus' breast, as the latter finally began to noticeable decelerate.

 

_Could this be a skill of someone who has followed us?_

 

Contemplated Momonga and looked around in the minute hope of noticing anything. Left: mist and trees; above: mist and trees; and to the right: more mist and trees. And the rest of the decimated flock.

 

A flock that now flew in parallel to them. A swarm of birds that all stared back at him, that also had a silver shimmer to their feathers like the leaves and barks.

 

_Oh Crap._

 

“Cocytus, forget what I said, keep running!”

 

“Lord?”

 

“Just do it! The elf king knows all along about us!”

 

Barked Momonga impatiently. Now that he was aware of it he could already hear feet and rattling gear around them, though not one spoken word. Sure enough a salvo of arrows landed where Cocytus had just accelerated again from. His guard did not miss the discrepancy and asked.

 

“You. are. aware, Lord, that. the. trip. could. be. rough. without. Demiurge. outlining. a. path?”

 

“Yes, yes I am.”

 

Snapped Momonga back while looking around.

 

“And. that. your. illusion. does. not. seem. to. work. anymore.”

 

“You don't say. Yes I know! Now tell me: do your skills still work?”

 

A grayish blue gas wave shot forth from Cocytus palm and froze the salvo they had been running straight into.

 

“They. do.”

 

Replied Cocytus and bisected two elves of the group they passed at waist height.

  
“Then don't waste them on the riff raff. Something is blocking my spells and I have a feeling we'll need them.”

 

Said Momonga as he saw another projectile head for him. He swatted it aside and felt something unexpected: in. As he looked at his hand he saw a small cut on his middle finger bone close.

 

He shouldn't have taken any damage at all from a simple elf arrow. Even the weapon of the elite Slane warrior could not pass his damage reduction but all of the sudden the primitives tips did. Had his inherent resistances also taken a hit?

 

_I need one of those arrows!_

 

He did not have wait for long; the next ambush waited already 200 meters later with more loosened shots. Staying on the safe side Momonga dodged all of them as they were oddly enough only aiming for him and caught the last one.

 

It was still of the same design as the arrow he had caught in the dead woods; screwed tip, bamboo shaft and beetle elytrons for fins; but now it was coated in a thick silver fluid like the one that had bled from the worms. He probed the tip with a finger and felt it sting like he had still been human.

 

Still unsure if it was him or the weapon responsible for his failing protection he rammed it a centimeter deep into Cocytus shoulder. The bug grunted at once.

 

“I. will. do. better, Lord.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.”

 

Ignored the End Cocytus' miss-placed apology.

 

_So it is the arrows coating, not me getting sick, that makes them dangerous. That's a relief, but still unsettling. Who or whatever is providing it needs to be of reasonable high level; at least 80+; to have a skill that can counter my High Tier Immunities. Which begs the question: Why don't they get involved in the fight against the humans? Unless..._

 

“Cocytus, cast a max widened [Frost Aura].”

 

The servant shouted without further comment.

 

“Double widened [Frost Aura: Level III]!”

 

Momonga felt a faint breeze wash over him as the mist in a 100 meter radius crystallized and dropped with a melodic ring like struck glass to the ground, giving them for once a look around. From all directions elves were converging on their path, not the position they had been a moment ago. It was obvious that whoever commanded them had a clear idea of where they were heading.

 

But those elves looked different. They still wore their rag tag leather and fur armors but their eyes, noses and mouths were smeared with the same silver fluid that coated their arrows, as if they had cried and vomited it forth from within.

 

“Brace yourself.”

 

Warned Momonga and released the full might of his [Despair Aura]. Instantly the closest foes fell convulsing and soiling themselves while the trees and undergrowth dropped all foliage, exposing all the silver furred creatures hiding underneath that had also been heading for the undead and the bug. Cocytus stumbled for a moment, yet held himself and kept running on while those elves at the edge of the aura stopped and tried following them from a safe distance.

 

_Thought so. This whole forest, the war, the entire nation is just one giant trap and I ran right into it. I guess the wisest course would be retreat._

 

_But that also would be expected._

 

Cocytus kept running while the mist parted ahead of them thanks to the cold effect. The elves still followed as well as their own incredible mortal speed allowed them at a safe distance and more comrades joined them every moment. Momonga thought they would be safe now and could perhaps continue with the original plan when the natives all suddenly stopped and began seizing where they stood.

 

More of the silver stuff purred out from everyone of their orifice and quickly dried into an ugly scab armor like he had seen on the worms, while a greenish glow lit up in their eyes.

 

It took only a few seconds before they righted themselves, focused him like a giant hive mind and charged once more at them, heedless of Cocytus' aura that coated them with rim and the occasional dead dropping member. A creak like a giant door in need of oil filled the forest as Hundreds of the elves in range drew their bows and thunder echoed like a titan had knocked on said door when they all released at once.

 

_[Telekinesis]!_

 

Cast Momonga at the descending shadow. He clearly saw the darkness of magic shoot from him to the arrows and form the arcane runes on the projectiles, but it failed. Only some of them reversed their direction while others changed material, turned into fish and cans or, in most cases, were not affected at all.

 

_What is that effect?_

 

Thought the End with more than a little frustration and followed with [Gust of Wind]. That spell on the other hand worked perfectly and knocked those projectiles off in a small window that would have hit him and Cocytus. A suspicion dawned in Momonga and he tried casting [Grasp Heart]; one of his favorite spells; at a random elf that charged at them.

 

It dropped at once as his hand closed in the habitual gesture, as did the next he tried it one. It failed on the third, worked on the fourth, failed again on the fifth and so on at random. Continuing on with the experiment he cast [Gravitational Beam] from a pointed finger like a mock pistol.

 

An invisible force shot force from his finger tip and annihilated absolutely anything in a perfect line a few meters wide straight to the horizon. He cast it again and again with both hands, like a little boy playing cowboy on his fathers shoulders, killing dozens of the elves he could see with each cast and he was finally certain.

 

What caused his magic to fail was not a normal spell's effect but the residual magic in the silver fluid that apparently sullied everything within the forest, including the mist. The code rests contaminated any arcane rune he tried to build on his target which was why [Telekinesis] and [Grasp Heart] had failed at random as had [Perfect Unknowable] in time as he and Cocytus had build up a film of the poisoned water drops floating in the air or why the elves' coated arrows had the potential to bypass his resistance. But spells with the effect originating directly from him worked fine enough for now.

 

Cocytus bisected the first bunch of mutated elves that tried to block his path, danced turning around the next and broke their backs with a lash of his tail before landing and jumping off two other knife ears that tried to spear him with their sullied weapons, while Momonga shot with both hands [Shards of Bone] at any attacker nearing from the side, shredding them in storm of shrapnel like they had been standing right next to an exploding grenade.

 

The two were still over 40 kilometers away from the shore and over 70 from the Slane held edge of the forest and though Cocytus' aura cleared the area of the damnable mist Momonga still could not establish contact with Nazarick. The only way they would get out of here was either by defeating whoever controlled the elves or slaughter the whole lot of them. If the latter had been an option to Momonga's plans he would not have held back and nuked the whole place but then he would have also wasted a valuable resource and though Cocytus was formidable death machine he lacked many of the high resistances and immunities Albedo or Shalltear possessed, most importantly the one to [Time Stop].

 

He could not leave the increasingly crowded getting battlefield without abandoning Cocytus. No, he needed to face the king. Soon, for the number of elves reached the Thousands despite the horrendous losses his spells and Cocytus blades inflicted on them. Fighting and dodging the surprisingly resilient creatures also notably slowed them down and each kill was a further waste of valuable life.

 

Momonga fired more [Gravitational Beams] like he was emptying two revolvers, when a trio of elves jumped him from behind. Cocytus had been busy fending of a pack of worms that broke from the earth and blocked their path. While he strangulated two with his bare fists and split another along its length at the same time the elves clung to Momonga's broad back and wracked him with coated clubs and axes, rattling his skull and chopping off two of his fingers. Momonga reached back and ripped off one of their heads, then grabbed the other two's weapon arms and flung them off with enough force to tear the limps from their sockets.

 

_This is going nowhere fast enough._

 

Thought Momonga while his fingers and cracks healed and squashed a lunging worm with two [Skeleton Wall]s that joined into an arc and covered them from the arrow fire following them.

 

“Cocytus hand me a corpse!”

 

Yelled the End and the blue warrior beheaded four of the five worm riders that jumped of their gutted mounts, yet simply speared the last's throats with his halberds tip to offer him his masters like a harpooned fish. As he picked the dead thing off the weapon he cast [Icy Prison] and a sphere of blue ice; 4 meters in diameter; formed around them. Suddenly the braying of the mad elves and pounding of hundreds of boots became very distant.

 

Outside they could see the piling up shadows of their attackers and the sphere rumbled softly with each of their hits but it would do for now. Then he cast [INCREASE MASS] on Cocytus, multiplying his weight by at least factor 50. The bug struggled only momentarily before running up the south facing wall of the sphere, tipping over their center of mass and squashing half the the elves that had been hacking at it.

 

Slowly, but inexorably so, Cocytus' hamster ball gained speed and waltzed over the onslaught of knife ears and worms, turning them into silver-red paste under its several tons of effective mass but Momonga knew it would hold only a few minutes under the repeated hits of the elves' imbued weapons.

 

_[Create Middle Tier Undead]_

 

The flesh of elf's corpse he held turned into a bubbling necrotic sludge before rapidly expanding into a emaciated yet still massive wight like warrior armored in dark plate armor and armed with a tower shield and flamberge while Momonga felt a mental connection form to his servant as if he had just discovered a new limb.

 

He shifted his weight on Cocytus back so he held on with one hand to his shoulder crystal and placed his creation, the [Death Knight], down like a giant stuffed toy on the other side to maintain balance.

 

“Cocytus, when I give the signal you will change course and head back for the Slane' lines in a wide arc. I'll proceed alone from now on.”

 

Said Momonga and began pulling off his baroque robe. The Death Knight mimicked him with his own gear and accepted the cloth in exchange for his chest plate.

 

“Lord, forgive. my. rudeness, but. is. that. wise? You. are. probably. facing. Tens. of. Thousands. more. of. these. mongrels. I know. your. power. is. absolute, but. the. sheer. numbers...”

 

Trailed Cocytus off.

 

“I'll be fine because you will be plan B.”

 

Said Momonga donning the Death Knight's horned helm. The cracks in the sphere were spreading and the collected blood on its outer surface blocked all vision to the outside. By now they were blind and only sheer momentum kept them on course.

 

“What. is. plan. B, Lord? I. was. not. informed. by. Demiurge. of. such. a. contingency.”

 

“I just came up with it.”

 

Stated the End and cast [Body of Effulgent Beryl] as well as [Ifrit's Coat] on all three of them. Both spells were 10th tier defensive magic that respectively massively boosted resistance to blunt trauma and negated once per cast fire damage. Seeing that the other undead had finished donning his robe and glasses, and holding the summon's weapons he explained.

 

“The B stands for 'bait'. Maximized [Plasmaball].”

 

A tiny flickering ball of flame over his open palm exploded inside the confined space. For an endless split second the sphere held while Millions of spider web cracks formed on its inside. The ice it was made of was strong enough to resist even several hits from a warrior like Cocytus but the power he had invested in the fireball would have been enough to eradicate a whole village in an instant. If not for the extra protection he had cast on them, both he and Cocytus would have taken tremendous damage from it and the Death Knight would have just been outright deleted in the confines of their cell.

 

Momonga canceled the [Increase Mass] spell on Cocytus just before the ice could no longer contain the force. It exploded in a devastating release of steam, flames and ice shards, killing anything within several Hundreds meters.

 

Momonga shot up the sky like an artillery shell and cast [Fly], trailing steam and smoke like so many other fragments that rained down upon the forest. As he stopped his acceleration just short of the speed of sound he looked back at the rising mushroom cloud that loomed like a white giant over the silver-green sea. He still felt the connection to his Death Knight so he assumed Cocytus also made it out in one piece.

 

So far the mission had only partly gone according to plan. He had hoped to gain more insight into the workings of elf country while he watched from the shadows. He had not even planned to fight himself. If Momonga would have had his way he would have stayed in the shadows and let Cocytus dirty his hands so as to keep any traces of his existence at a minimum. Obviously that part of his plan was moot by now. The master of the elves was well aware of his existence and apparently even specifically interested in him.

 

Ahead he saw the the pastel-blue horizon of the Crescent Lake approach and began casting his usual repertoire of defensive spells and augments as he used to in Yggdrasil whenever he did not know what he was up against.

 

_[Breath Ward], [Bless of Magic Caster], [Complete Vision], [Freedom], [Greater Hardening], [Body of Effulgent Beryl], Widened [Teleportation Delay], [False Data: Life], [False Data: Mana], [Greater Luck], [Greater Magic Shield]..._

 

He had reached number 83 when he crashed feet first into the gravel of the shore. While the flung up stones and earth trickled down Momonga took in the surroundings. Contrary to his expectations there was no great palace or city here nor any kind of artistic expressions like statues or a temple. Just a seemingly endless gravel shore under a low cover of mist, bordering the highest trees he had seen in the forest yet. The old giants did not just have a silver shine like the plants he saw before, they looked as if they were made of actual silver and tiny green lights and circuits shimmered all over them.

 

As he walked on the crunching ground no animal sound disturbed the quiet. Only the wind pushing flat waves to the shore provided a soft contrast to the clatter of the Death Knight's plate armor.

Then he noticed from the corner of his eye a rustle in the tree line.

 

Momonga lazily turned his head at the newcomers: More mutated elves riding on owl-bears the size of hippos stormed out of the mist and hefted their black wood lances under the arm pits while the leading shape; an imposing humanoid shape utterly consumed by the the corruption and sporting a jagged crown: whirled a thin blade as long a grown man in a display of martial prowess. Its polished armor glistened in the sun and mirrored the isolated clouds in the sky. Even the beast it rode wore a leather harness with engravings of leaves and mountains, that glowed with arcane might.

 

Momonga erased the whole group with a cast of [Gravitational Beam]. He had enough and shouted.

 

“Come now! I tire of the killing!”

 

No one answered and he walked on.

 

“I know. You know. There is no point in it.

 

He rammed the flamberge right into the ground before him; producing a pitiful bestial whimper; and hammered down the rising bulge in the gravel behind him with the flat of his shield before it could break the surface.

 

“I can go on like this all day but where would that leave us?”

 

Yelled Momonga at the deserted shore and hurled the shield spinning like a frisbee into the trees, cutting down several of them and, judging by the following screams, more elf riders alongside.

 

“In the end it will still come down to you and me, with all the lovely elves dead and neither of us wants that. Or do you?”

 

He stretched one arm without looking at the forest and continuously cast [Hellfire], burning the trees and all life between them in blood red flames without a care as he calmly walked on.

 

“Okay, okay, I admit I'm a deeply flawed individual. I'm the last one to deny I'm a social catastrophe but at least I am creative! I could carve my countenance into your realm so you could see it from space or have your future spawn cursed to always be born as twins fused together at forehead, hands and feet in random order. Or maybe I'll just give all your men chin balls and women dicks for clits? Who knows when the day drags on?”

 

The waves hitting the shore became an actual surf and Momonga stopped to look out at the water, while still moving the flame throwing arm in a slow curve. Something hidden under the surface neared from the lakes centers. Something large.

 

Its movement looked sluggish from afar, like a drifting flat island, but as it neared he realized it was an optical illusion created scale. Whatever it was that shimmered beneath the surface was not just large, it was enormous, a leviathan, and pushing a huge bow wave in front of it.

 

_I just hope I didn't bite off more than I can chew..._

 

Thought Momonga as he finished burning the forest in a wide arc, hopefully cutting off any ground based reinforcements his opponent would call upon. It was still over a kilometer away when he carefully took aim with his index for what he hoped was its center of mass.

 

_Maximized [Gravitational Beam]_

 

The beams intensity ignited the air molecules with the friction of their hurled away twins, basking the whole shore in a red light as it cut into water, no doubt causing a cataclysmic tsunami on the other side of the lakes in a few minutes. Momonga spent no more thought on it, for 'it' seemingly shrugged of the attack and simply accelerated. He fired three more shots, creating huge underwater explosions, where it must have penetrated the creature and hit the lakes floor.

 

Dozens of smaller yet still huge ripples shot forth from it when it had crossed half the distance. He managed to shoot two of them when a car sized, beautiful silver head on a long segmented neck broke the waters surface. It looked like an over-sized hairless doll of an androgynous elf's face but its eyes were each six smaller, green glowing rotating sets of lenses.

 

He barely had time to jump out of the way before it smashed like giant club into the gravel. He fired another red beam through its forehead, but although it penetrated one of the doll's eyes and head's back, it did not tear it completely off or even stop it as he had hoped.

 

Momonga was about to take another shot at the silver fluid leaking thing that faced him when suddenly another shot out of the ground near the forests edge and slammed down on him. If not for [Body for Effulgent Beryl] he would have been severely hurt by the attack, but his carelessness still cost him his one time protection from blunt damage, one of the traditional weaknesses of skeletal undead.

 

Casting [Fly] he shot out of the earth to its side at the speed of a jet plan and saw he was facing not just a duo of the mechanical snake dolls, but eight! Some rose from the water, other rose from fresh holes in the ground, yet all were lunging for him.

 

Momonga twisted and turned in air in the frantic attempt to avoid the snakes and to get higher but the dolls opened their mouths to spit hundreds of finer whip like tentacles at him. He cast [Reality Slash] and the universe itself seemed to unhinge for a moment at the fleshy part between the neck segments of the closest doll head before it dropped to the earth, but the move took to long and the first tentacle slung around his arm, then another around his feet, his neck and other limbs.

 

They dragged him toward the blunt teeth of one dolls seeking to eat him.

 

_Enough playing around. [Time Stop]!_

 

Thought Momonga and the world froze. Stone sent flying stayed in the air, no wave spread or flame in the forest flickered. He had ripped offthe tentacle from his neck when he was yanked forward again.

 

_Oh what the hell!_

 

The damn beasts suddenly ignored his spell and surrounded him, watching him with trashing mouth whips as he was, despite all his efforts, dragged forward to the waiting mouth, while the remaining outside reality still held its breaths.

 

Just before his skull entered the space between its incisors he cast Tripple [Reduce Person], shrinked to the size of a tin soldier and escaped the snapping down teeth. Yet the 84 remaining eyes did not lose track of him and followed his path. They opened their mouths wider than any real elf ever could and spat thick silver vapors, that blanked the whole area and coated him in a sticky paint.

 

Momonga dropped to the earth as time started flowing again and the world shrunk back from his perspective to proper size. Looking up he saw the whips shoot for him and cast [Skeleton Wall], but nothing happened. He rolled out of the way of the first tentacles ripping into the ground and jumped again into the air, only to drop. [Fly] also had not activated.

 

_This is bad._

 

Thought the End as he desperately dodged more slamming down tentacles and crashing heads. He could not stop them from slowly driving him to the fires of the forest's edge, despite knowing what they intended.

  
He jumped a last time out of the way of snapping doll face before he could retreat no further. He felt the intense heat of the hell fire he had unleashed behind him since the creatures' ink had corrupted all his protection spells to a useless state. Yet strangely they stopped and formed a ring around him.

 

“It has _been_ a while, Momonga.”

 

Came the hollow echoing words from all heads at once, the first sound they made since the start of the fight. The voice leaked with spiteful hatred, though he did not recognize it. The dolls necks rising from the sand broke fully to the surface, revealing a common center off the shore.

 

Once more the water churned and the largest creature he had seen yet in the New World rose out of the lake on three pairs of outward facing mechanical chicken legs. A comb of blinking antennas sprouted from the back of its blimp shaped body and eight rows of thick armor plates, with gnarled silver skin between them, corresponded to the ring of arms that ended in the dolls' heads.

 

It resembled nothing so much as a cross between a robot chicken, a crab and a squid, but where a cephalopod would have sported a beak, a wide disk of flesh fused with bright green glowing circuitry festered and in it hang, connected to too many cables of varying thickness and dripping silver fluid, what he assumed was the elf king.

 

Even in the sickly light shining upon him his features were divine. His long white hair, regally carved chin and long thin nose were perfectly proportioned. Only the tired, but satisfied watching hetero chromatic eyes, the left white, the right green, marred the absolute symmetry of his face.

 

But, apart from the six pack abdomen, it was the only flesh on him. All the other parts of his humanoid body, right down to the neck that looked like the face had been imposed upon it, was a poor mechanical facsimile of the elven body, with wires and steel cords giving only a vague idea of muscles and bone. Even compared to Momonga he was a perversion of life.

 

“Eh, do I know you?”

 

Asked Momonga cluelessly where he could have met him. Although he had p-ked Hundreds, if not Thousands, of other Players in Yggdrasil, he was sure he would have remembered someone like him. The only thing he was certain of was that he was not one of the guild leaders he had hunted. Those he remembered by heart.

 

The elf king did not on his part show a sign of taking special offense by it as the crab-squid leaned closer and said with just as much hate as before.

 

“I doubt it, but you knew _my wife._ ”

 

“Your wife?”

 

“Yes. She _used to be_ a guild master like you, before you manipulated our guilds champion into a coup so you could slay him instead later. Oh yes, Momonga, I know _all_ about _your history_.”

 

Hissed the king, still moving closer.

 

“Oh come on, it was all just fun and games back then, typical Yggdrasil play. You really can't hold that old story against me.”

 

Joked Momonga in a not seriously meant attempt to defuse the situation. He was well aware it would not end well for one of them. The king agreed on the notion as he loomed only a few meters apart over Momonga and growled:

 

“It was in Yggdrasil, but not in the real world. Not when the stress of guild politics causes your love to give _premature birth_. Not when your only son is _born a cripple_ due to it and your _soul mate breaks_.”

 

“How was I supposed to know that? Look, I am willing to say sorry for your loss...”

 

The elf king's frown only deepened at the insincere apology but the end continued.

 

“...but I really needed a werepug for my hit list. A bunny girl just wouldn't do.”

 

The angry grimace suddenly turned into a look of confusion.

 

“A bunny girl?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“She was a proud high elf priestess.”

 

Said the king but Momonga shook his head and imitated with his hands behind his head large ears, explaining.

 

“Noooo, she was a bunny girl. Long ears, little tail and a mean temper. Had those ridiculous big eyes, too.”

 

“We were the proud warriors of Tamshin Groove! We had no bunny girl in our guild nor a werepug!”

 

_Tamshin Groove?_

 

“Tamshin Groove... Tamshin Groove... Now where do I know that name from?”

 

Let Momonga roll the name on his tongue while scratching his silver-ink dripping helm. The elf king growled indignantly.

 

“Are you telling me you don't remember Middenheim's exemplars of honor and valor?”

 

_Didn't that apply to all guilds of... Wait, he didn't say Asgard..._

 

“Hold on a moment. You said Middenheim?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“And your guild was elves only?”

 

“Yes, we were!”

 

“Guild base in a giant, gold colored tree?”

 

“Yes, for fucks sake, do you at last remember?!”

 

Snarled the king with balled fists. Momonga did and apologized, in earnest this time, with a friendly raised hand.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I forgot about my scheme test run.”

 

“AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”

 

Exploded the royal in a blood curdling scream and punched with all eight arms at once at him. Momonga had expected the reaction and jumped forward at the last moment thinking.

 

_Works like a charm every time._

 

He rammed his hand in the neck of one dolls as his opponent pulled back for another swing and released his grip at the highest point so he flew in ballistic arc towards the sea. He quickly looked back and saw the elf king's monstrous body already turning around, faster than any creature the size of an daikaiju ought to and screamed after him.

 

“I have endured twelve Hundred years in this accursed existence and thought every second of this moment! This entire nation was conceived as your coffin!”

 

With a thrust of his all his arms he propelled himself in an terrifying display of pure physical power forward. Momonga crashed into the water just seconds before was chaotically hurled forward by the shock wave of the elf king's impact. While he tumbled through the water the monster taunted in dulled but rapidly louder growing words.

 

“There is no place in a hundred kilometers you are safe, least of all _my_ depths!”

 

Momonga saw the giant shadow head for him at tremendous speed and felt with every bone he had to act now or could forget about anything that came after. He thrust his hands away from the monster and activated his inventory.

 

Not to get a new item that could protect him and neither to receive a weapon that might be capable of slaying the leviathan. He used it to store water.

 

All of it.

 

Momonga shot forward like a bullet and barely avoided a snapping doll's jaw, whom's eyes tracked him like dancing flood lights. Faster than Cocytus ever ran through the forest he flew over the lake's floor but the elf king was right on his heels. Just slightly adjusting his hands position he narrowly avoided again and again the elf king's attacks and headed ever deeper while the cyborg promised.

 

“I'll break every single bone of your carcass! I will grind them to dust and plow them into the mud where you belong! Not even an unmarked grave is fit for you freak! No one will ever find your remains! NO ONE!”

 

_Maybe I gave my opponent too much credit. That guy is simply simple. Basic, even. I bet next he will tell me how I will be forgotten._

 

“NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU!”

 

_Bingo. Alright, I've almost reached the bottom, that should be enough. Giant boss with glowing spots, my ass, it's high time to end this fake._

 

Momonga threw back his arms and let the elf king shoot past under him and crash into the muddy ground while he shot straight back up to the surface. After a few seconds he saw again the sun shimmer beyond the surface and closed the inventory.

 

He broke through the waves and fell toward sky before slowly being retarded by gravity. Under him the water churned and the elf king emerged in a ring of his curling doll arms, with a manic grin upon his beautiful features.

 

“Where do you think you are going? Without magic you will fall down anyway into my kind lap!”

 

Yelled the elf at Momonga as he reached his jump's zenith.

 

“Patience! I'll be right with you!”

 

Shouted the End back and opened his inventory again, this time with his hands to his side facing the ground.

 

The king was only partially right. He had no access to his spells, including [Fly], due to the ink that still clung to him, but Momonga had absorbed Thousands of tons of liquid during his short trip through the depths, almost nothing compared to the billions of cubic meters the lake contained, but when he rearranged the mass' form in inventory and the manner of its release...

 

...It became a frighteningly powerful engine. The water molecules broke up under the ionizing pressure of the release and recombined almost instantly again in a directed Hydrogen-Oxygen reaction and Momonga shot up with a fiery exhaust that would have shamed any of the Saturn rockets of the middle 20th century.

 

The vibrations and noise was far too great, even for his senses, that he could have understood what the elf king might have retorted as he left the last of the lonely clouds behind. The pastel sky quickly turned dark blue and the horizon bend more into a curve with each second till he saw the whole world as a large blue-white disc below him.

 

He had never seen something so beautiful in his life. Sure, he had watched pictures of Earth before mankind had turned into a polluted dump but those never could compare to precious jewel below him. For minutes he simply gazed upon it while he adjusted the water-inventory-engine before he finally turned it off and summoned a brush from his inventory, trusting his calculations to take him to his destination.

 

* * *

 

 

 Hours later and more than 35.000 kilometers from Crescent Lake away his feet lightly touched down in the darkness without the slightest sound. How could they in the practical vacuum of space? Momonga had landed on what seemed to be a large, dust caked throne, drifting lonely through space, and fired a tiny thrust of water from his hand so he would not bounce off again.

He leaned down and brushed with his now clean hand over the arm rest. After just a few swipes he saw the reflection of his glowing eyes on a glass cylinder and in it floated a severed, gnarled underarm attached to several wires and tubes. His hand moved further up the throne and revealed another tube with the corresponding severed upper arm. Finally he swiped over the topmost backrest.

Even if he did not have only a flesh stripped skull for a head he would have grinned. An ancient elf head glared back with impotent hatred and gnashing teeth as he scratched with his index's claw a mirror message into the glass before tapping his temple.

_'Like gimp, like son hides the crip in his crib._ _'_

For a while Momonga enjoyed his silent screams but in the end he screwed him out.

 

* * *

 

AN: Hi, thank you for bearing with me for so long. We have reached the end of act 1 of 3 and I would appreciate a review on how you liked it so far. Have a nice day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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